As a young child, I was fascinated by vampires, and mimicked everything they did, trying to learn their language. It took me many years, but I succeeded, and once got into trouble with my mother while spying on a group of vampires, copying their accent, repeating everything they said. My mother just didn't understand. She thought my desire to learn their ways unhealthy.
But I once saw them kill. I had been confused when vampires entered the Hall of Death, where I had never seen them go. I hid behind a rock, watching in fear and curiosity. It was a mad vampire, and I watched what they did. You know what I speak of, Darren- please do not make me explain it.
I ran home horrified and weeping, unable to repeat the details to my sister or mother, just terrified. My mother told me that was why I shouldn't talk to vampires or anything.
I took those words to heart. I vowed to never associate with them, despite my keen interest. They were too dangerous, not worth losing my family for. But as you can see, I broke that vow. I broke it when I was about fifteen.
I was in the Hall of Cremation, pounding bones of a vampire into dust to be scattered to the winds, talking with my sister, when I heard a pair of vampires laughing, one young, one old. I glanced up briefly. Or rather, I meant to see merely what it was they looked like, nothing more. Things happened a little differently...
The older of the two had brown hair specked with grey, he was dressed simply. I looked at the other. He was so.....I don't know what, exactly, caught my interest that day, but whatever he was, he absorbed my attention entirely, so that I stood gazing at him, pounding the dust into even finer dust.
He had blonde hair, not exactly long, but long enough to put into a ponytail. He had captivating blue eyes, and like anyone you are intrigued by, I wanted to look at them a little longer, but I didn't dare. I stared at him, my eyes flickering over his laughing face, his cheekbones, and his slender frame. His callused hands held a scrap of parchment and a quill dipped in ink, dripping, unbeknownst to him. I unconsciously leaned forward to read what he had written, but my sister harshly called me back and I was started out of my daze.
He and his mentor were startled, too; they stopped laughing and stared after us wonderingly, and my sister tugged at my arm and pulled me out of there.
You know of whom I speak, Darren Shan. I'm obviously talking about Kurda Smahlt.
I didn't know who Kurda was at the time, but I was fascinated, following him around during my spare time. I thoroughly enjoyed his presence, even when he did not know he was sharing it with me. He had a tendency to talk out loud to himself, voicing his thoughts, opinions, and theories. He was a delight to listen to, and I had never met- well, not that I had met him- a vampire quite like him.
I had taken up my studies of the language English once more, and the knowledge had rushed back to me quickly. I knew I could have conversed with a vampire if I had had the chance.
Of course, Darren, that chance came to me, although it was all quite by accident.
I continued to mimic vampires, but now I had a little notebook with my own- don't laugh- maps. I wasn't that fond of cartography, but a map was a beautiful thing to behold and besides, if Kurda created them, then they were a wonderful thing. I followed him even more, especially when he was alone, to see how one made maps.
I'm sure Kurda had seen me a few times, but I didn't give it a thought until one day when I overheard him and his mentor talking...
"Nemo," Kurda said suddenly. I leaned in from where I sat in one of the many halls. Luckily I was the only one from my family there, and naturally no one, no Guardians or vampires, were paying attention to me.
"Yes?" asked the older vampire.
"There's this one Guardian that I keep seeing," he said, frowning. I still didn't make any connections; I just got excited that he was talking about my race.
Nemo grew somber. "What do you mean?"
Kurda sighed and put his maps down. "A Guardian," he repeated. "When I'm down recording things for my maps. I've seen her-"
"Her?" Nemo interrupted. "A female Guardian? How old is she?"
Kurda shrugged sheepishly. "About fifteen or so, somewhere around there. I'm sure it's the same one. At first, I would stare at her, but I think that discouraged her. So I've been looking for her whenever I can. I've seen her- she watches what I do and I don't think she knows I know."
"What would she want to watch you for?" Nemo laughed. I was a little suspicious, this story sounded oddly familiar...
"I think she's interested in my maps, but I've seen her looking even when I'm not sketching-"
I gasped out loud and dropped what I was carrying with a clang. Kurda looked up, alarmed, and our eyes met. I was so afraid- I won't lie- because some of the others were furious with me and I knew that if they knew why I'd done it I'd be in even more trouble. I was most frightened of Kurda and Nemo, though- Id been found out!
"Is that her?" Nemo asked, looking at me. I took a step away involuntarily.
"Yes. Yes, it is. I can't believe I didn't notise her before," Kurda said. I looked away and picked up what I'd dropped. I had to act like I didn't understand what they were saying.
"Get her. We have to find out why she's doing it." I heard Nemo say. I was so scared.
"She can't talk, Nemo. Well, she can, but not English."
"You don't know that, Kurda," Nemo said earnestly. "Come on- you can catch her, you can, I know you can-"
"No...okay. I'll get her."
I wasn't' about to pretend after hearing that. I dropped it again- this time deliberately- and fled, ignoring the angry shouts of the others. I could hear them following me, and I tried to run more quickly.
I ran into my hiding space, aware of the fact that they wouldn't catch me unless I came out.
I heard Kurda stop- he was alone- outside of my little crevice in the rock. I squirmed, but I knew he couldn't see me.
Then I heard him rustling through papers and my heart stopped; he was looking through my maps. Oh, gods.
I wriggled out and ran at him for my papers. He dropped them and held my wrists hard.
"Who did these?" he demanded, gesturing to the fallen sheets. I cried out and struggled. I would not speak.
"Who did these?!" he repeated, but I stomped on his foot and scooped them up, then began running again. I knew he'd be able to follow this time.
Sure enough, I soon felt him seize my arms. I spun around to push him away, dropping my notebook, but he grabbed my shoulders roughly and forced me down- no doubt to keep me from escaping. There was no cruelty in what he did, but I felt as though the end was coming.
My back was bruised as my body scraped against the stone wall behind us two, and Kurda's own body lurched forward and he fell onto me.
"Who- what- how—" he said hopelessly, and fell silent. We were both quiet, only the sounds of our shallow breathing present in the air.
"How do you understand me?" he said finally, sitting back. I fretted under the weight of him and the rocks digging into my flesh, but he paid no heed.
Finally, I gave in, and in broken English replied, "I understand you because I speak the languages English."
He gasped in surprise, but then grew serious once more. "Right. Who are you?"
I fought to sit up and get away, but he put his hands on my arms and forced me to stay beneath him.
He was relentless. I finally shrieked, "Lilin Si'lat!"
He nodded, then stood and pulled me up. I stood unsurely, trembling, and he said, "Why do you follow me?"
"I wanted to make maps."
He stared at me, as though wondering if he believed me or not. Finally he said, "Is that it?"
I faltered and he knelt down before me, holding my bleeding hands in his. "Come one. Why have you been watching me?" he pleaded urgently.
I shuddered. Suddenly, an out-of-breath Nemo came around the corner. His eyes widened at the sight of us and Kurda stood briskly and tugged at my hands.
"She speaks and understands English," he explained. "We should take her to the Vampire Princes."
My eyes open and shining in terror, I followed him wordlessly into the heart of Vampire Mountain.