The remainder of the morning had passed seamlessly into the afternoon. Time was a problematic device created by mortals. Perhaps first conceived by some primitive being in a cave, the first seconds stones tossed in a pile to measure the passing of time. Such notions only meant as much as the stock put into them, and to immortals, the falling of these stones meant even less. So as the birds chirped, in incremented beats, called forth by the rise of the sun and dutifully continued throughout the hours to come; all the while bursts of exhilaration and calls of ecstasy gave life to the world hidden behind the closed curtains of their room. As language left, and native tongue of lust and body set in, the prominence of the rest of the world was overcome by the fulfillment of desire.
Elegance and pride were the shield and sword of vampires, so funny to see them drop so readily. Tsukune soon learned that the underlying instincts of a vampire should quite readily disrupt this superior demeanor, leaving what was almost a beast in their wake. It was, perhaps, the most savage he had ever seen Moka, and yet the least intimidating, but, now, his beautiful vampire had resigned with dignity to his arms, exhausted and satisfied. In turn, Moka now clung to a very limp Tsukune. An air of accomplishment was exerted from her, and she could not help but mark his state as a sign of her success. "Consider that my parting gift Tsukune." Moka whispered as she rubbed his chest raw with Belmond. The faint yet familiar glimmer of confusion shot from Tsukune's eyes. "Parting gift Moka-chan?"
"Baka." Moka whispered in amusement. "I'm not leaving Tsukune, merely - resigning for a while, I'm sure that our time with Belmond has been stretched long enough." A mixture of amusement and embarrassment struck Tsukune as he thought of returning the whip crossed his mind. He could not help but ponder the mixed reaction Ruby was sure to have as she considered just how the item had been used. "Tsukune," Moka sounded, "before we return Belmond, I would like to have a discussion with you about what it is to be a vampire, just to make sure you understand what you have to get used too."
"It doesn't seem all that complicated Moka-chan, all I have to do is drink blood frequently and I'll be fine right?" Tsukune said, almost belittling the prestige of vampires with the simplicity of his explanation
"Not quite Tsukune." Moka replied with a almost grave seriousness, "Actually there are far more details about our race that you need to understand. Let's get dressed, and then I'll go into detail." Moka rose from the bed, sauntering across the room, exerting her usual air of confidence as she went. Never had Tsukune more appreciated seeing a woman walk away.
Tsukune adorned his dirtied clothes from the previous day, not having had the time to prepare a second change of clothes. The school uniform was obviously worse for ware, marred at points by dirt, and dyed red in blotches about the collar, stained by straying drops of blood. Neither of the two made any great haste, but both would wish they had as an unwelcome voice sounded with a knock, just outside the door.
"Onee-chan! Open the door, I know you're unsealed, I can feel your aura! Open up so I can visit my real onee-chan!" Kokoa's knocks were starting to rattle the door, she had never been the patient one among the group. Attacked by giant monsters, nearly burned alive, almost sliced in half, such was the list of travesties experienced by Tsukune Aono, and yet never had his expression better reflected terror and desperation.
Tsukune made a frantic grab for his clothes, only to realize that there was nowhere to run. Moka looked on with mild amusement, knowing that it was inevitable Kokoa would learn of their relationship. "There's no point hiding anything Tsukune everyone would discover our relationship anyway. Besides if we don't let her in Kokoa will probably break in the door." Moka slipped into a robe proceeded to the door, opening it before Tsukune could even button his pants, and he could swear that he saw her grin ever so slightly as she did.
Kokoa's eyes shot straight to Tsukune. It must have been the first time she did not instantly aim to grab her sisters attention. Her expression was not so easily discerned. She appeared disgusted, confused, shocked, but of course, all these expressions were soon eclipsed by, enraged.
"You worm!" It was the only thing that could be heard other than the sounds of loud smashes. Kokoa's mouth moved in an attempt to scream further spiteful slurs, but she seemed somehow silenced by her anger. Kou hade already taken the form of a very threatening looking bat, covered in unwelcomingly long, sharp barbs. Tsukune dove out of the way, scarcely avoiding a swing that left the lamp of a bedside table in pieces. A barrage of semi-accurate strikes continued to rain downward upon Tsukune, who managed to flee backward just enough to evade each one. After a few moments Kokoa found her prey pinned in a corner of the bathroom, and she moved in for a hit that she knew he could not possibly miss.
Things seemed to slow down. Kokoa's swing came in near slow motion. It was not at all a strange moment, Tsukune had noticed this happen several times when fighting as a ghoul, but it seemed somehow more dramatic this time. In a moment of action, Tsukune tore the weapon away from Kokoa, and laid one light blow to knock her away. Or at least he thought he did. Apparently gauging the difference in power between the strength of a ghoul and a vampire was a more daunting task that it seemed, for the intended light blow left Kokoa very far away, traveling very fast, and very much unconscious. On a pleasant note, the walls of the room seemed mysteriously undamaged.
"Kokoa!" Tsukune exclaimed, surprised that he had done such unintended damage. "It's fine Tsukune," Moka said calmly, "you didn't hurt her. Well, not anymore than I used to in our sparing matches back home, but I think we should begin discussing your vampirism immediately, since it seems you aren't adjusting so smoothly."
Moka pulled a chair out from the small center table. "Sit down Tsukune, I have a story to tell you."
"A story?"
"Yes Tsukune. It's a story told to all vampires when they are still small. It's a story both historically relevant, and synonymous with a vampire's pride. It helps young vampires, and those who are new to the fold, understand their power, and the distinction that exists between them and the rest of the world. It is about the life of an early vampire, of whom very little is known, but he was one of the earliest, quite likely among the first, of his kind."
Tsukune sat down across from Moka, Kokoa's unconscious state had slipped from his mind, and it had been replaced with fresh curiosity. Somehow the way Moka had spoke seemed reflective of the how seriously she took the nature of a vampire. She began to speak once more, and tell the tale of a man by name of Cassius Granger.
Little is known of the origins of the vampire. Even the eldest of the vampire race do not know for certain the nature of our origin. What little is known is that vampires were among the first monster species to come into existence, but how we came to be, is a question shrouded in mystery, but a short chapter of the life of an early vampire is known, and it best enraptures what the power and burden of a vampire is.
Cassius Granger is a name known by all vampires, Tsukune. When he was born, and where he was raised, are also very uncertain factors, but it has been deduced that he lived somewhere in Europe for his entire life. A place where the sun broke only fleetingly through the clouds, and where the trees thrived with life, but appeared to be singed by the flames of death. Leaves always a pale brown, or lackluster orange; made lively only by the unyielding breeze which would constantly bring the woods surrounding the village to life with the rustle of foliage, and the hushed whispers one hears when the breeze in the trees does grace their ears.
Cassius was born a normal, human, child, in this poor village. His parents knew no fortune beyond the company of family, and even at a young age, Cassius would assist his father with various tasks about the small world that was their home. The village was an impoverished place, plagued by its deep isolation. It was the daughter of no distant, wealthy province, the ally of no neighbor, and the destination of no traveler, and, so, the community got by on collaborative work by its residents, who would tend to a single set of crops, single barn of livestock, and the collective hopes of all those who wished to share in the meek nourishment which their labors did procure.
Cassius grew quickly, maturing at the pace set forth by the life that he lived, and by the reach of his adolescence, he was the strongest worker in his village. He had the strength to fail the mightiest of trees for the fires of his people and the wit to keep himself a figure of comradery to the other members of his village. All the while, he was still a human.
Of course, the tale of Cassius Granger goes far beyond the recounting of a human gifted with strength and intelligence, and though prosperous in his own right, Cassius was doubtlessly predestined to an even greater form of existence. Like all young men, he dreamed dreams of grandeur, romantic adventures beyond his home. He and his best friend Cain Daemon. The two would take what little time could be spared from the work which bore them both muscles and calluses, to fight with makeshift swords, hand carved from the trees which fueled the local fires. They dreamed what all men dream in the ignorance of youth; their dreams were of being the leaders of great battles. To be the first class swordsmen of some great crusade, and to joyously display their prowess in the heat of battle. Such dreams, in hindsight, seem petty and pitiful, but such is the nature of youthful dreams.
Everyday they would scrape together the time to fight one another, and everyday Cassius would strike the sword from Cain's hand, and throw his defeated friend to the ground, only to extend his arm in respect, and bring him back from the dirt in a laugh that showed the two were forever friends.
"Hahahaha! Cassius you've bested me yet again!" called Cain as he brushed the dirt from his pants, only to leave the already embedded shades of brown born from previous years of labor completely intact. "Fate is cruel to have given talent to someone confined to a life where such ability has no meaning. Oh that such gifts had been promised to me." He said with tones of humor in his voice.
Cassius chuckled slightly. "And just what good would it do you, that you should best me with your sword, and that I should be the one too to brush off the first of many layers of dirt from my clothes?"
"Cassius my friend, your skills would do this traveler wonders on his journey's. But with or without your aptitude for the blade, I shall carve my path in the lands beyond this village." Cain had spoke with a familiar voice, as if already recalling fondly the adventures to which he alluded.
"Again with your talk of escaping this place Cain? What was it last time, 'I'll leave this place, it's dreadfully unfaltering scenery, tiresome people, and absence of promise far behind never to look back, never yielding, not even an inch, of my footing in regret, as I walk away.'? My friend, surely you must realize that such dreams are not real to us beyond the taste of our romantic fancies and nightly slumbers?"
A despairing look grew upon Cain's face, so true had the words of his friend struck, but acceptance that life was devoid of such adventures was not so readily gained. Cain extended his arm, as per their daily custom, to his fallen friend, and Cain did ascend to meet his friend on the level, and they did stride back to the village together.
Cassius and Cain grew into adults, and in their many years, they had never let hold of their dreams slip. And even for all his nearly pessimistic realism, Cassius was still inspired day to day by his friends chatter of a greater life. So persuasive had Cain been, that for some time, they had been slowly amassing supplies from the village in secret, preparing to finally embark on the road to this life of adventure, and one chilly morning, the friends vanished without a trace, leaving the unfaltering scenery, tiresome people, and life barren of promises, far behind. Never did they look back. Never did they concede even a single step to the life they left behind.
Their travels brought them little of what they sought. For many weeks they traveled aimlessly in the wilderness, finding no princely provinces to call home. No great battles against foreign legions satisfied their lust for battle, but rather they were treated to the bitter flavor found in doing battle with wild creatures. Untamed beasts became a source of food when no other remained, and soon Cain succumbed to a violent parasite, which made him fall deathly ill.
Cassius was forced to tend to the health of his friend, and for many days he helped him to fight his ailment, until fortune brought them to a town. The place they had found was not a princely estate by any stretch, but held in the same light as the place of their childhoods, in was a vast kingdom. Cassius pleaded with the keeper of a local inn that they may take shelter from the elements which had tested them so; at first the elderly gentleman had seemed quite remote, but in seeing the condition of Cain, he offered his assistance, for a single week.
"A week is all it will take." the innkeeper had said in a raspy, well used voice, a ominous chuckle passing from his throat after he spoke.
Cassius had felt as though that strained cackle had masked some hidden knowledge, as though it foreshadowed events to come, and from the first night he spent sitting beside a sleeping Cain, his gut instinct would be confirmed.
The faint flame of a candle traveled up the stairs to their room late that night. Levitated by the hand of the elderly man, and flickering with a flutter as he made his way to the down the hall, to the room where his newest guest did reside. The inn was clearly worn and aged, the resonance of the creaking doorknob told a long living tale as it spun, and the old man entered the room, finding Cassius still awake, sitting in the chair beside Cain's bed, looking at his friend with a look of tired concern that knew no rest.
The creak of the door had stuck sharp to the ears of Cassius, but his exhausted state permitted his head to turn only ever so slightly, to peer into the faintly glowing face of his late night visitor. "Cassius was it?" whispered the illuminated intruder in such a voice that one could not discern it for a whisper or a cry. A sleepy but confident "Yes." was the reply which seeped out from the darkness. "Follow me lad, I'd like to discuss your friends condition, among other things, with you." With those words the man turned from the room, walking away with a stride that did not adequately reflect the age of his face, which, Cassius was only just realizing, had shown a touch more youth just then than it had before.
"Your friend won't get any better with you sitting there will he?" murmured the old man prompting Cassius from his chair, who followed with mild haste, wondering if his hope in the old man's knowledge would prove fruitful. And wondering if the strange feeling about the man should permit him to be distrusted.
The two walked down into the small lobby of the building, and the man placed the candlestick on the table, sitting in a nearby chair, and motioning that Cassius should do the same. After a few moments, the old man spoke.
"Son," he started, "have you ever heard the stories of the fantastic creatures of the night?"
"You'd be surprised the creatures one finds about in the night," replied Cassius, "care to be a bit more specific?"
"Haha, you're blunt boy, I like that. Fine, I shall narrow down the possibilities for you. Ever heard of anything called a vampire?"
Cassius couldn't help but notice the fond smile that had spread across the mans face as he said the word vampire. "No." he responded. "I've never heard of anything by that name, but what does that matter? I believe you said we could discuss my friend's health?"
"That's exactly what I am discussing boy. Just sit and listen and you may just learn something. You see, a vampire is a unique creature. For the most part, it looks very much human, and it is even capable of concealing the suspicious features of it's true appearance. But they are also very different from normal people, because they posses unimaginable power. One which may interest you greatly as a matter of fact. You see, these creatures have remarkably powerful immune systems. They never get sick. They heal very, very quickly, and they certainly could never be done in by something as pitiful as a parasite."
Cassius perked up a bit at this, but his spirits soon dropped. "How is that of any use to Cain? He's not a vampire."
"It's really quite simple young man, to become a vampire. I should know, I've been one for many years. Haha, I only wish I had been given such powers in my prime, when I was around you're age."
"Why is that?" Cassius asked with curiosity.
"No real reason, just would have been enjoyable in my youth I suppose." said the man looking away casually.
"But, what if Cain does not want to become a vampire?" Cassius began, "We cannot merely ask his consent, he's too weak to respond."
"Well I should think that he would be more than accepting if his dearest friend were to undergo the transformation with him." replied the old man, not returning his gaze to Cassius, so as to mask the twinkle in his eye.
The two continued to talk for some time. Little was said about the nature of change that would be experienced, but the very thought that vampirism could save Cain was enough to sell Cassius. Such lack of consideration is the foolishness of youth. It was quickly settled, Cassius was to rest that night beside Cain, and in the over the next few days, the process of ascension would take place. And so, Cassius returned to his room, awaiting the fangs that would be their salvation.
Cassius and Cain were reborn three days later. In their new lives, they were stronger, faster, and more agile. They found their minds making connections easier, and that the things around them made more sense. They're eyes shone red, vibrant and piercing, but only during the evenings, when they would stay up late through the night with the old inn keeper. The man was an enigma. He never shared his true name, merely asked that they called him Shadowe, never ate anything, and it was unclear from where he was procuring a source of blood, but still, he was a fast growing friend.
Shadowe had taught them about vampires. Though little which could be taught could not be learned quite easily. They had indomitable mental and physical prowess, people skills that were, by no stretch of the word, seductive. But what he taught them first, were the rules of the vampires. The early code, which, to the largest degree, is still followed today, the very tenets of their kind.
The first rule was simple. Do not feed on the dead. To do so was to disgrace the pride of the noble vampires, and to show contempt for lesser creatures. A vampire was free to put lesser beings in their place, even to enslave them, but never to dishonor them beyond the grave.
The second rule was slightly more difficult to follow, but neither Cassius nor Cain held any, large objections to it. Do not consort with anything less than a vampire. Relationships of romance, or even of simple lust were not permitted under the vampire code. The pride of the vampires would never allow breeding or any sort of relationship that went beyond friendly to exist with lesser beings. Even close friendships were often frowned upon.
Another rule, which the old inn keep seemed to stress greatly, was to never create a ghoul. He went into no great detail about the subject, but he did say that if either of them ever did bring such a creature into existence, they would have to kill it, or they would be killed.
The last rule that was mentioned was another simple one, but it so greatly reflected the seemingly arrogant pride of a vampire. Never accept help from a lesser species, to do so is to dishonor the gifts you have already been given to a vampire. You could accept the assistance of one of your own, and you were permitted to extend your services to them, but nothing else was deemed passable. To Cassius and Cain, two so fresh faced kin of the night, such restrictions seemed irrational, but they accepted this tenet as they did all others, it was the least they could do to show their respect and gratitude for the gifts they had been given.
In the days they spent outside the inn, both friends had found steady work. Cain worked in, what his manager called "customer relations" at a nearby tavern, handling the more unruly clientele, while Cassius would exhibit his physical prowess with various tasks given by local farms. Getting such jobs became easy for a man whose legendary strength could have thrown a steer the way a steer could throw a man.
And, as always, they would devote hours of their free time to playing soldier with their new, steel swords.
Once every few weeks, a goat or a pig would escape from the farm. None of them were ever found, but the farmers in charge of the livestock were forced to presume that the animals simply ran into the wilderness. Whatever the case, none of the missing animals were ever found.
For many month the two lived contently in the village. Working frequently, still living in the inn, enjoying the company of the mysterious Shadowe, drinking a round every so often at the bar, and fighting in the woods. But of course, they soon began to plot moving on once more, off to seek a life greater than the one before. Sadly, the two would never move on.
It was about the third month of their stay that something finally brought an end to their prosperity, and halted any future travels. Late one night, Cassius was off to embezzle another source of nourishment from the farm, and Cain was just getting of his shift at the tavern. It was the setting for the act that would halt their adventures.
Cassius returned down the path to the farm, and as the village grew from a figure at the base of a steep, lanky hill to a familiar vision of home and neighbors, a growing sense of dread and urgency gripped him. At the center of the town he saw a large congregation of people, gathered noisily about a single point. The focal point of the scene, a man bound to a pole, with a cross tied to his chest, resting near his heart, and his throat slit. And s wall of grief struck Cassius, as he looked into the lifeless eyes, of Cain.
He rushed away from the crowd. He was headed in the direction of the person whom always seemed to knowing the goings on about the town, and one of the few towns people with whom he was well acquainted. Cassius was running for Shadowe. He burst through the door of the inn frantically, disheartened not to see the old inn keeper there. A man whom he had never seen before noticed his wild looks, and was quick to respond.
"Excuse me sir, is there something I can help you with? I am the new owner of this inn."
A perplexed look swept of the already distraught face of Cassius. "What do you mean, new owner? What happened to the previous owner?"
"Oh, that man. Well he sold me the inn earlier today, said he didn't want to stay in town any longer. Something about not wanting the friend of someone to come after him. I can see why he would be worried, denouncing a vampire is not something one does lightly. To be honest, I didn't even know that they existed."
Realization set in with those words. The old man had betrayed them. Cain was dead. Cassius was alone. Their lives of eternal promise and adventure together had come to an end.
"And that's where the story ends Tsukune." Moka said, leaning back in her chair, relaxing in the aftermath of the tale.
"Not much of a children's story is it?" Tsukune asked, clearly unhappy with the story's finish.
"No. Haha, it wasn't exactly the warmest bedtime story that my parents ever told me, but as I got older, I realized that it tells a great deal about vampires. The story wasn't really about the strength of Cassius or Cain, it was about all the more subtle things about vampires. The way they can care deeply, but rarely associate with other, the way they can so readily charm others, and the way they can be as cold and deceptive as any human, no matter how superior they think themselves. These lessons are important to learn, so that we can lead pure lives, even as vampires, rather than lead the life of someone such as Shadowe. The true strength of a vampire comes from being wise, and not abusing our powers, and that, Tsukune, is what I meant to teach you. Now let's move along, dusk is already setting and we still haven't gotten Belmond back to the chairman."
The two arrived at the chairman's office only a little while later, and were greeted by a frantic Ruby, who was unsurprisingly frustrated with their "borrowing" of Belmond. But with the return of the whip, things about the office seemed to assume a peaceful state. Before the pair could leave, the chairman himself entered the room, bidding good evening to them both.
"Ah, Ms. Akashiya, Mr. Aono, been keeping busy?"
Tsukune blushed at the thought of even mentioning what they had been up to, while Moka simply responded, "Yes sir, my other self was just informing Tsukune about vampires."
"Hehe, the story of Cassius Granger no doubt." The chairman responded knowingly, "Ah, I see we'll be needing to fetch a Rosario for you Mr. Aono. I think I can have one ready towards the end of the break, perhaps a little longer, I ask that you make due until then."
"I will sir." Tsukune responded, "God evening to you. Good night Ruby-san."
"Good night." came their simultaneous response. "Sleep tight Mr. Aono, Ms. Akashiya." added the chairman, turning his head ever so slightly, as if to hide the familiar twinkle in his eye.