The wind lashed at his face like unrelenting invisible whips, drawing blood and cruelly disfiguring his perfect, porcelain-like beauty. He stood with his back to the wall of the tower, his arms crossed over his chest, his head bowed now against the wind. Then the rain began to pour, smacking the granite with inhuman speed, each droplet clearly visible on the man's scarlet uniform, his dark blond hair being dyed brown by the heavy downpour.
His tears mixed with the rain, no one could tell he was crying, but no one on this earth had ever seen Camus cry. And no one ever would, he walked slowly forward-his hands shaking slightly-to the edge of the tower, he placed his hands on the wall that prevented one from falling off and crashing to the ground four large storeys down.
Images flooded into his mind, images he would rather forget, images he cannot possibly live with much longer, and throwing his head back he let out a cry of despair, a cry he had wanted to let out the moment he saw his comrades die on the battlefield, the moment he had taken another human life, the moment his parents were snatched away from him, the moment he had sold his soul to the devil, taken up arms and become a killer.
His façade had cracked for the just a moment there, the tall, handsome, controlled young man with such skill and confidence that inspired bravery from his men, that façade had cracked and for just a second, anyone watching could see the frightened child inside. He gripped the parapet tightly, he wanted so much to end everything, to just let it all slip away. So many times had he prayed for death on the battlefield, so many times had he prayed he would slip up, that he would weaken for a second and then that would be it, it would be over, he would be free. But Camus was a knight, and he was honour-bound to fight with every ounce of strength and cunning he had, two things this particular knight had in abundance. He had never lost a duel, never been outsmarted, he was the perfect soldier and he cursed himself for that.
More tears streamed down his face, he was trapped, he could not even pluck up the courage to take his own life. Stumbling backwards, his back hit the wall and he sank down it, landing slowly, but unceremoniously on the wet ground, his head falling back and hitting off the wall. He didn't care. And putting his head in his hands, he wept.
Rina took a drag from her hip-flask, due to her freakishly strong liver, no drink in North Window castle's bar was strong enough to get her drunk, so she kept a concoction she and Eilie had mixed in a hip flask when she went out drinking. It could knock the gargantuan Bolgan out, it would do for her.
She looked across her table, grinning mischievously, Viktor was obviously blind drunk now, she'd won again. Viktor was a proud man, and very proud of his ability to drink pretty much everyone in the castle under the table, not Rina though. A source of great abeyance and shame to the unkempt warrior, Viktor had challenged her to a drinking contest every Saturday since she had joined Riou's army. Every time she had won. And it seemed this Saturday was going to be no difference.
"Gaaaah! Bullshit! I bet that stuff is just water!" He slurred swaying dangerously and pointing unsteadily at Rina's flask. She grinned and extended it towards him with a steady hand. He did this every week. Snatching the flask off her, he took a drag, and fainted.
"Ok boys, I'm gonna head off now, its been fun kicking your ass."
"You know he isn't going to be fit for training tomorrow." Flik said, the blue clad warrior looking down solemnly at his friend.
"Not my problem." The young traveller grinned even wider, the most fun she had all week was watching a tremendously hung over Viktor get his ass handed to him by Flik during their morning training session. "See ya." And with a toss of her sleek black hair, she was out of the bar and across the courtyard.
She walked further, towards the castle
"Rina!" She turned to see a highly vexed looking Miklotov moving quickly towards her. Not that looking vexed was anything new for the young knight, it was common knowledge that Miklotov was so highly strung and uptight that his cholesterol had now risen dangerously high for someone of his mere twenty six years.
He caught up with her "Rina, you haven't seen Camus have you?"
"What, no, I haven't. What did he do this time Mik." It was also common knowledge that Camus took delight in pissing his best friend and comrade in arms off.
"He went missing, that's what, we were supposed to have a late night training sessions and he hasn't turned up!"
Rina grimaced
"Not surprised, what is it with you men and constantly training anyway, maybe the guy wanted a break."
"Well, SOME of us take pride in our skills and are training to be more use to this army. And no, Camus would never let his skill slip, we always train together, plus he's been gone since this morning."
Although it didn't seem such a big deal, Rina was touched by the dark haired knight's concern for his friend, she patted him on the shoulder and let her features soften.
"If I see him, I'll tell him your looking, ok."
"Yes, well, see to it you do." Said Miklotov, obviously ruffled that the young woman had seen him at a weaker moment. And with that he walked stiffly off.
"Jesus, that boy needs a girlfriend." Rina took another drag, felt the affects slightly and wandered off towards the castle.
"You've never done this before, have you?" came a voice from the darkness, Camus gasped and looked upwards to see the slender frame of the vampire Sierra, perched atop the tower, her arm wrapped round the weathercock, her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly giving her that lazy look she always wore. She was a vampire, she frightened most men, she didn't frighten Camus.
Jumping nimbly down onto the pathway, she slid down the wall next to Camus and stared at him hard.
"I've tried, by the Gods I've tried….." He trailed off, his usually musical, charismatic voice cracked and hoarse.
"Why do you wish to take your life, mortal?" She asked him, the usual arrogant boredom she held in her voice when speaking to humans replaced with a morbid fascination.
"It does not concern you, Vampire." Camus retorted, some semblance of strength returning to his voice.
"Death does concern me, I deal in it…… So do you, but in a different way."
"Enough, witch, I will not listen to this." Camus rose, but despite the strength of his words, his heart still ached for release, he wished to draw Uriah, his blade and drive it through his heart.
"You've killed so many, in battle you and your friend, you tear through men as if they were paper, you're pristine uniform and fair hair don't fool me, you're the reaper himself. And you can't stand that can you?" She said, rising and staring at the young knight harder. Tears welled in his eyes.
"Please…. No."
"Why does it affect you like this? Why do I not see your impetuous friend laying on the ground weeping for the men he has killed? Why do I only see you, of all the murderers who congregate at this castle, crying in remorse?"
"Because I am weak…." Camus trailed off, his voice once again hoarse.
"No, I tell a lie, I have seen other men, wrapped in their own thoughts, visions of their dead comrades clear in their minds. But you, I am only interested in you."
"Why?"
"Because, you strut about this castle, acting like the knight in shining armour every woman wishes to wed, or at least fuck, and now, here you are…." She trailed off, grinning evilly.
"So now I am to be penalised for having these regrets!? Now I am to be punished, by you no less, a vampire, an undead plague upon our land, I should cut you down now, I should kill you and then give your unearthly brethren a taste of my blade!"
"Why don't you?"
That was it, something snapped, Camus' eyes, normally full of warmth, mischief and compassion went dead.
"I've been asking myself that question." And with that, he drew his sword faster than a human eye could register and slammed the beautiful young vampire up against the stone wall, throttling her with a strong hand, his blade held against her pale neck.
"See." She gasped "Isn't anger so much more productive? Don't you feel better."
Camus felt sick, he had struck a woman. He dropped his sword and let go of her neck.
"I, I apologise, oh gods….." And with that he picked up Uriah and fled, down the tower steps and into the courtyard. Sierra smiled beatifically and watched him run into the woods surrounding the castle, she would follow. This was her chance.
"You're so beautiful Vincent, yes, yes you are, you are so beautiful, and no human can ever match your beauty."
"Thankyou Vincent."
"Shut up you!"
Rina hastily shut the door, it seemed Vincent de Boul had taken over Camus' quarters and was talking to his schizophrenic alter-ego, who really, really liked him apparently.
"That guy has issues. Tight ass though."
Rina had decided to look for Camus, partly because she was concerned and partly because she was bored and needed something to do. She had checked his usual haunts, ie, places where there were large amounts of women. He was no where to be found, she was actually beginning to get worried.
Rina had never had an especially close relationship with either Camus or Miklotov, she spoke to Miklotov more often than she spoke to the blonde knight as she enjoyed to annoy the uptight young man occasionally.
However she was still worried about him, as a key member of the army and as a comrade in battle. But also, because, and though she was loathe to admit it, she had always admired him from afar, something she found odd as when it came to men, Rina was as forward as a woman could possibly be. And then some.
She was jolted from her thoughts by none other than the leader of the army she fought for, she'd bumped into him in the corridor, he looked suitably embarrassed.
"Terribly sorry Rina, I wasn't watching where I was going."
Rina smiled warmly, she'd always liked Riou, despite being the leader of a vast army, he was still a shy teen, something she found very appealing about him. But there was something about Riou that everyone loved, that was just the thing she loved.
"It's ok, sir." She added the sir very forcefully and the young man winced
"Please, no, not now, I've had enough of that from Shu and Apple." He said "Anyway, erm, look busy, or whatever, I'm going for a beer."
"Aren't you a little young?" Rina grinned at the slender young martial artist
"Well if I'm old enough to lead an army to rebel against a vast empire, then I'm old enough for a beer. Plus I brought a fake moustache." And slapping it on, he walked down towards Leona's tavern.
And then, moments later, Rina bumped into a much less welcome face.
"Hello travelling wench." Said the vampire Sierra, her peerless beauty heightened in the light of the moon. Rina's features hardened.
"Sierra." She said coldly "Have you seen Camus."
"Ah yes, the knight, no I have not, and why would I, of all people, associate with such a pompous fool?"
"I don't know Sierra." Said Rina and began to walk away. She then decided to turn round and say something nice and bitchy but the vampire gone. Enveloped in night, her natural habitat. Rina shuddered and headed towards the training courtyard.
Sierra moved silently through the forest, she could smell the young knight, she could smell his fear, his neuroses, his sorrow, she could smell how far he was from death, such was the gift of the vampire. Before long she found him, in a glade, sitting by the pristine water, staring blankly.
"I met a man like you once." She said, Camus' head shot up and he saw her emerging from the trees "He was a compassionate man, a knight, such as yourself." She continued, her voice had softened considerably since the last time she had spoken to him "Tortured by his deeds, the family he had lost. You lost your family, did you not Camus, to war."
"When I was twelve….. How did you….?" He trailed off
"I am a vampire, I know such things. You lost your brother and parents to a bandit attack."
"My father was a mercenary, he taught me and my brother to fight, to defend our farm. But we wanted to continue our skills…. So stupid. My brother, Artemis, was killed in battle, he joined the Camaro knights. He was the strongest man I knew other than my father but he was ambushed and killed done day. The day after that bandits attacked my village, and killed my family." It all spilled out, things he hadn't told anyone before, but that was another gift of the vampire, they could manipulate humans, Camus knew this, but did not care.
"Such a sad tale." Sierra said softly "I offered this man a chance to escape his demons. I offered him immortality, with me. We were happy Camus, don't you want to be happy?"
"Yes." He said, sinking slowly into a dream-like state, she was so beautiful, her silver hair so soft, her skin so smooth, he wanted to reach out and touch her and envelop himself in her twisted, possessive, almost motherly love.
"Be eternally happy by my side, my love." She said, taking his head in her arms and kissing him lightly on the forehead "You don't need to fear anymore. All those ghosts will dissapear, your parents screams will disappear, the blood will wash off…." She kissed him then, so passionately, Camus fell deeper, he felt no sadness, only love for this woman who wanted to make him happy.
She bent down, her fangs brushed his neck, she would drain him, and make him hers, and she would have his beauty to gaze at, to touch. For eternity.
"NO!" Sierra looked up to see the tall frame of Miklotov standing in the light of the moon, sword raised " You will not take my friend!"
Sierra pressed Camus' head to her breast
"You only want him for yourself, you selfish fiend! Stay away, he is happy with me, he loves me!"
"You really are a demon…" Miklotov trailed off in disbelief
"Is it so wrong? I can make him happy. I can make him feel love like he has never felt, power like he has never felt, he won't cry at night for the men he's killed and friends and family he has lost!"
"Yes, he deserves to have his life, not live a life of death and decay!"
"He already does! As he strides by your side in battle and kills! This is just a different version and at least he will be happy!"
"He won't be human! Now step away, or I WILL kill you!" Miklotov stepped forward, sword still raised, Camus was still held in her grip though, the trance still upon him, he could not strike her for fear of hurting his friend.
Sierra smiled
"You truly do love him, don't you?"
"Yes, he is my closest friend and comrade." Miklotov said firmly
"Then he has someone, but if he slips once again into this depression that is so unlike him, I WILL sire him, and he will be mine forever. But because you love him so, I will give you one last chance." She placed him gently on the ground.
"How thoughtful of you." MIklotov said with heavy sarcasm. With one last furtive glance at Camus' sleeping form, Sierra disappeared into the shadows.
Then the young knight began to stir. He awoke and turned to the side, seeing Miklotov.
"What happened?"
"She tried to make you a vampire." Miklotov said dispassionately.
"Oh. Do you…. Feel like going for a beer." Said the handsome young man, sitting upright and grinning sheepishly.
"You scared the shit out of me." MIklotov said, "Whats wrong with you?"
Camus got up, dusted himself down and then promptly hugged his friend
"I don't know friend, but I swear it won't happen again."
"No." MIklotov said, holding Camus at arms length "If it DOES happen, talk to me about it, instead of fleeing into the forest to be molested by horny vampires."
"Your disgusting." Camus snorted
"And your melodramatic. Lets get a drink."
Sierra wept silently as she watched them walk away back towards the castle. And then stole into the night.