Chapter Fourteen

Music is the movement of sound
To reach the soul for the education of its virtue

. . .

Janos awoke while it was still dark outside. He opened his eyes and for the umpteenth time found himself in a bedroom that, despite all the years he'd spent there, still couldn't perceive as his. This time, though, everything was different. The return to reality didn't lead only to another day identical to the day that had just ended, a day he had to share with the same thoughts of the previous one. He turned his head to his left, carefully untagling his body and wings from the white arms of the woman lying at his side, who murmured something unintelligible in her sleep and turned, sighing deeply.
The sheets just partly covered her back and Janos admired the drawing of muscles beneath that white opalescent skin, her shapely shoulders that melted in the spindly line of her arms. He turned on his side, gingerly getting closer, so that her scent could reach him before anything else.
Mere hours before they had entered the bedroom accompanied solely by the sound of their kissing, unable to stop, almost fearful, as if what had been created between them would dissolve into thin air had they stopped. There hadn't been the thoughts and doubts that both of them had expected, that had always promised to be there at the first signs of what they had created.
There had been immediately and solely the two of them and their clothes suddenly too large, fallen to the ground with the naturalness of the promises that had been kept. There were a thirst and a hunger that had been ignored for too long, and that suddenly had demanded satiation, there was a void to fill that just then, as they tried to fill it up, they were able to comprehend how large it was.
Janos rested his head again on the pillow and closed his eyes. The images began to flow freely behind his closed lids.
The light.
The dark.
The bed.
Nerissa's skin, unique in the world, touching his, finally speaking a known language.
Those oh so beautiful eyes veiled by a shadow. Her gaze suddenly uncertain as he'd held her close, and that uncertanity vanishing as he'd kissed the scars on her shoulders.
He'd taken possession of her body with all the gentleness he was capable of, wishing to be any existing god that could allow him to go back in time and change how things had been. And he'd discovered, as he'd become one with her, that she could give him the strenght to be that god, and could find the strenght to be, for him, the same thing.
They would erase the suffering, if not the memory.
The memory...
After Daenerys he hadn't had any other woman. It was as if a part of him had entered some sort of suspension, as if he'd left only the vital functions working, those that allowed him to feed, to breathe, to walk around the world like an automaton made of flesh and blood. Daenerys' death had taught him that love can't be reproduced at will. No one can impose themselves not to love anymore. And above all no one could impose themselves to love again.
Nerissa had been the gift of destiny, a silent 'oh!' of stupor as on his arid and barren planet finally began to rain. She had been the emotion of seeing that, among the rocks and the earth burned by the scorching heat, one miraculous blade of grass was blooming. It wasn't a return back to life, but it was a small promise whispered on lips of hope, hope that, as such, didn't bring happiness, just trepidation.
«Are you sleeping?»
Nerissa's voice surprised him as he chased those so very recent memories, hanging on his mind like burning candles. He turned towards her and found that she was looking at him in the dark, illuminated only by the pale moonlight, head resing on one hand and elbow keeping it up against the mattress.
He smiled softly and ran his hand on her arm. «No, I'm not sleeping» he murmured, and she smiled back, her teeth flashing white in the dark. Her body slid in his arms with the naturalness of a river that flows back into its bed. Janos felt again the miracle of Nerissa's skin against his own, felt her rest her head against his chest as she breathed in his scent.
«You smell good, Janos Audron. And you're handsome.»
He smiled, running his hand in her long curls. «It's your beauty what puts the stars to shame» he said, voice rough from sleep, and she raised her head to look at him, stifling a laugh.
«What? Can't I have a morning voice?» he asked, feigning annoyance.
«You have a really bad case of bed hair, my morning-voiced vampire» she said playfully, running her fingers through it to dishevel it further. He let her do as she pleased, his eyes dancing with mirth.
«I wish that was the main problem. You probably haven't seen my wings, dear» he said, grinning happily.
«Well, your feathers are sticking out in all directions... I'll brush them down when we get up, is that okay?» she asked, caressing the thick bone protruding from his back. He smiled against her neck, feeling her heartbeat beneath the fair skin, still marvelling at how she didn't flinch or draw away, but instead held him closer, kissing the top of his head.
They made love again, with the lazy and sensual pleasure of their still sleepy bodies, called back from their rest by a desire that was more mental than physical. They forgot the rest of the world in the way that only love makes forget.
Later, while they lay beside each other, Janos looked again at the ceiling of the room, finding that he already felt more at home.

. . .

«Alright» Vorador said, examining the cut in his shirt. «You and broadswords are two parallel lines. You never meet.»
«Sorry» Nerissa said, trying to catch her breath. Vorador was fast and surprisingly graceful despite his large muscles, and the blows he landed, though controlled, were still heavy. She was aching all over.
She frowned though, she'd thought she'd done fairly good, considering it had been the first time with a sword for her.
«Don't mention it, child. I'd foreseen it anyway -you're not comfortable with them. They are not your weapon. You don't act naturally around them.»
The green-skinned vampire sheathed his own sword and took back the one Nerissa was holding.
«What do you mean?» she asked, following him back into the armory as she tied her hair back again in a tight ponytail, so it wouldn't get in the way while fighting.
Vorador hummed as he put her sword away. «I've lived for many, many years, child» he said, looking at the other weapons critically. «I've trained my fair share of fighters, both men and women, each one different form the previous. If the weapon is perfect for the person who wields it, there is a way of acting, a naturalness of movements that lacks where other weapons are concerned. You tried the broadsword, and though you're not exactly bad with it...»
He didn't finish the sentence and instead took a pair of twin blades from the wall they were hanging on. Nerissa arched an eyebrow.
«I couldn't wield one sword, now you are giving me two?»
«Child of such little faith. I am the teacher here. No arguing.»
Nerissa smiled crookedly and took the swords he handed her. They were long, slightly curved silver blades, the kind one would find in a book about the elves. The grip was made out of black wood and was very simple, just as both the rainguard and the crossguard. The grip then prolonged both backwards, forming the pommel, and forward, so that the blade seemed tro protrude from branches. They felt light and comfortable in her hands and sparkled deathly in the light of the sun that came in from the large windows.
Nerissa followed Vorador back in the hall where they'd fought before. He unsheathed his sword again, checking the spell he'd put on the blade before beginning their session. It covered the blade with some sort of thick, slippery layer, so that the metal wouldn't cut in case of blows touching the skin. He didn't bother to cast the same spell on her blades and Nerissa smiled to herself at that.
«Aren't you afraid I'll cut your shirt again?»
«It was beginner's luck. It won't happen again.»
She grinned, determined to show him otherwise. They studied each other for a moment, before Vorador lunged at her, whirling his sword. Nerissa tried to stop the assault, but she moved too slowly and yelped when his sword hit her on her side.
Without thinking, she charged at him, but Vorador easily warded her blow off. She then aimed at the vampire's head, but at the last second changed direction, trying to hit him on the ribs. The loud sound of metal against metal echoed in the hall.
«Improvisation... you learn fast, young one» Vorador commented, his eyes shining dangerously. His arm moved with lighting speed and Nerissa felt an explosion of pain at her head. She collapsed to the ground like an empty bag, feeling dizzy. With a grimace, she touched the side of her head, and felt her hand become wet with blood. «You shouldn't have done that» she growled, enraged, getting up. Her head spun, making her feel unsteady.
Vorador arched an eyebrow -eye ridge?
«Why not? An enemy wouldn't treat you delicately, and me neither. Should I encourage your incompetence to make you feel better? I don't think so.»
He picked her swords up, handing them to her. «Again.»
Nerissa snarled in a way that was almost vampire like and attacked again. Vorador dodged her blows easily, moving in a way that was as graceful as a dancer's.
«Don't wave your arms, bend your knees» he hissed while stopping a particularly graceless blow. He kept on giving her instructions, then he stopped to show the woman how to make a particular move. «Try it again, but this time do so slowly.»
They tried it again, exaggerating the movements, until the vampire declared himself satisfied. They resumed their furious fighting, but as much as Nerissa tried, she could never ward off more than a couple blows from Vorador.
When they were done, Nerissa collapsed on the floor, groaning. She was aching everywhere, Vorador hadn't gone easy with that sword, that was for sure. Perched on the beams of the ceiling, Janos stifled a laugh.
«What are you laughing at?» she grumbled, more than just a little irritated.
«Oh, nothing. I just saw a young, strong woman being beat by an old man, nothing in particular» he said with a grin.
«I'll pour honey on your wings while you're sleeping.»
Janos laughed again as she got up. Vorador was grinning, his formidable fangs standing out against his skin's dark green. In an attempt at defending her wounded pride, she turned and stalked to the armory, muttering insults.
«You know, girl,» Vorador's voice said from behind her, «I don't think I remember my Sire laughing so much before you arrived.»
«I'm glad I provide good entertainment» she muttered, putting away the swords. Vorador cackled. «Oh, maybe to me, yes. But that's not what I meant.»
Nerissa turned to face him and was forced to stop, surprised. The green-skinned vampire was looking at her with an expression that, hadn't it been Vorador -for god's sake, Vorador-, she would have deemed grateful.
«He looks happy, young one, and you don't know how long ago I've last seen him smile with mirth. I believe you're the one responsible for his current emotional state... and I find myself grateful. You may gloat. You have the bloodthirsty vampire Vorador owing you.»
He said that with a relatively neutral expression, but she could guess how those words grated on his ego. She heard it in the veiled bitterness of his last sentences. She shook her head, stupefied.
«You owe me nothing, Vorador, I already told you. I...» She sighed. «We... well...»
«You two got it on, didn't you?»
She caught him grinning and instantly decided not to soothe his wounded ego.
«Will you shut up!»
«I'm actually glad, girl. I was really beginning to fear he'd made a chastity vow. I bet he didn't last more than a few minutes, though, what with two thousand years of ja-»
«Vorador, if you don't shut up now,» she said with a dangerous look in her eyes, «I'll shove that sword of yours...»
«Ah, already thinking of undressing me. My Sire must be misfiring in bed» he snickered.
Nerissa groaned and stalked out, undoing the ponytail she'd forced her hair in.
«Janos Audron, you have raised a freaking pervert!»
Janos laughed from his spot six meters from the floor. «You just figured that out, my dear?» he said mirthfully, shaking his head.
«I should have expected it. You, sir» she said, pointing a delicate finger towards Vorador, «have quite the reputation among the ladies of Uschtenheim.»
«Oh, do I now?»
«Of course. I think many of them just wanted their husbands to capture you so that they could have their way with you in the dungeons.»
Vorador laughed at that while Janos unfurled his wings and glided from the beams. He landed gracefully behind the other vampire and Nerissa smiled fondly at him.
«Anyway, I'm going to go and take a bath. With your permission.»
Vorador grinned. «If you just wait a moment, I could show you the way» he snickered, and Nerissa huffed at his implications.
Then...
«Oh, no, I know the way, thank you. But I do have a favor to ask of you, if you don't mind, my lord.»
Vorador's grin just broadened while Janos followed the exchange with interest.
«By all means, my lady, ask away.»
Nerissa smiled ever so innocently, batting her long lashes at him. «You wouldn't happen to have an hairbrush to lend me, do you? I appear have forgotten mine and my hair gets so tangled...»
She believed she'd never seen anyone change expression so quickly. Nerissa ran away laughing before the vampire could come out of his shock. Janos' burst of laughter reached her ears and she just laughed more, joyful and carefree.

. . .

«I can't believe it» Vorador grumbled, irritated, as he tried to get Zoe off him without accidentally hurting her with his claws. «It's not true».
Janos just snickered. «I'll confess I have waited for this day to come for a long time, my son» he chuckled. «I didn't have the heart to shut you up; I'm glad someone did.»
Vorador harrumphed and shook his head. Then he grinned. «So... all your qualms and worries, and then you take her to your bed anyway, eh? 'Too young', you said...»
Janos gave him a sidelong glance. «Please don't start. I already have my doubts without you digging your claws in the wound.»
«Oh, such a gory image for a jest.»
«A jest that would have led to more, and in the very end to me questioning whether I was sane or not when I raised you.»
Vorador snorted, shaking his head. «You weren't, father. All of Nosgoth is screaming so to you.»
«You're lucky I care little for screams.»
«Apart from the ones you tear from your woman.»
Janos groaned.
They talked about lighter matters for a while, until silence fell upon them, but neither was uncomfortable. After some time, Janos turned to his fledgling and asked: «How have things been at your mansion?»
Vorador sighed deeply, but contentedly. «The usual, Sire. Three fledglings have returned from Nachtholm with good news. The lordling there seems genuinely interested in being on our side, and Moebius is more furious than ever for the utter failure at Uschtenheim. They tell me he's lost a maiden he'd had his eyes on for a long time... oh well. I can only be happy for the poor thing.»
«Indeed we can.»
«You should come back to the forest, Janos. You hide it admirably, but this forced solitude...»
Vorador didn't complete the sentence. Instead, he said: «Come visit sometimes. Bring your woman along if you so wish. But just take your mind off that damned sword for a while.»
Janos sighed deeply. He knew Vorador just worried for him, but this sounded way too much like the beginning of one of their endless arguments and the ancient vampire was in no mood for fighting.
«Vorador, please» he said. «You know as well as I do that I cannot-»
«I know. You don't need to remind me each time I tell you this.»
Vorador exhaled. «You know, this world isn't worth it. You withering away for its 'salvation'. What is there to gain?»
Janos shook his head, placing a hand on the green-skinned vampire's muscular shoulder. «Only innocent lives, my son» he said solemnly, but Vorador scoffed.
«There's hardly anything innocent in Nosgoth anymore, Sire. I wish I never crafted the damn thing.»
«Liar» Janos said, somewhat amused. He remembered all to well Vorador's pride in showing the finished blade.
Vorador just huffed. «Think about what I said, Janos» he said, preparing to vanish and teleport back to his mansion. «You know my doors will always be open for you.»
Janos smiled wearily and Vorador nodded at him in his silent farewell. His form was surrounded by a cloud of green mist as his body became almost transparent, before vanishing.
Alone in the great silent hall, Janos closed his eyes, recalling and missing the days of long ago, when he and his fledgling hadn't been forced apart by cruel fate and obscure, distant prophecies.

. . .

Authoress' note:
Aaaaaand here comes Vorry again! :) thank you so much for your kind reviews, I love you all! (don't worry about the Alétheia, they'll come back soon)
I do not own in any shape or form the characters featured in this story -this also applies to the story's image cover and to the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I only own my OCs and the story's plot.
IMPORTANT: since I have no clue on how to describe sword fights, I took most of the fight scene from Cristopher Paolini's fabulous Eragon, so all credit goes to him. I'll try to write something on my own next time.
Comments please!
Have a good day/night and love Legacy of Kain!