Eternally Yours
Disclaimer: I'm only going to say this once, just for all the corporate jerks out there who may stumble upon this and think they can sue me. Well think again! Dragonball Z is owned by Akira Toriyama and Funimation. I take no credit for it whatsoever. I'm simply using the characters to write my own fanfic, and I'm not making any profit. So there:P Case closed. I'm done.
A.N. Hello all. My fascination with vampires and mythical beings encouraged me to write this fic about a year ago. I only wrote about 3 chapters, before realising that research was desperately needed in order to create something with meaning and a good plot. I didn't want to write a fic with a typical plot of; so and so gets bitten and simply becomes a vampire, complete with a lemon and either a happy or average ending. I wanted this to be deep, somewhat historical, and mysterious.
No, I'm not a Goth who walks around with white face make-up, and I don't drink blood (yuck) I'm vegetarian for crying out loud! But I am fascinated by the un-explained, as well as myths and legends. Hopefully, this won't just be about vampires, I intend to include other creatures of darkness too. I'm probably kidding myself in thinking that this plot hasn't been done before, but I hope it hasn't, and I haven't read a plot like mine.
Anyway, please don't read and then flame just because you're not into this kinda thing. I have warned you, or I'm about to warn you, what this fic will include. But reviews would be nice lol. Expect blood, gore, seductiveness, language,…. the works. That's why this'll be R rated. I'm giving credit to any sites I obtained information from at the end, because without them, I'd be screwed, especially for this first chapter. So big thanks to those sites. Anyway, without further adieu, here is the first chapter of my tale.
Chapter 1:
Not much is known of the kindred to any mortal. However, there are whispers to some, of a grey mansion overlooking windswept, silent hills, where the father of all sits on his night throne accompanied by his life mate, where he rules his children. Their 'sanctuary,' their, 'home.'
The grand cobwebbed and grim main hall of a certain desolate grey mansion was filled with creatures of the night as they waited for the important news that was destined to change their lives in one way, or another. It was so silent, that a pin could've easily been heard if it hit the concrete grey, hard and ice-cold stone floor. The bright moonlight shone through the Stained-glass, Church like windows, highlighting the youthful and beautiful faces of the kindred. To anyone mortal, these 'things' would appear to be completely human, as they resemble them so much, on the outside that is. They consisted of men and women, each as beautiful as the other. Some held candles, while others either stood or sat on the wooden table-benches. Sound only slightly strange? Well, put it this way. How many humans do you know, who fear the sunlight, but embrace the cold moon? How many possess neither reflection nor shadow? Finally, how many humans crave the taste of a mere mortal's blood, and blood alone? Not many, I'm sure, if any at all. Indeed, although they appeared to look like mortals, these creatures were far from it. They were known to mortals as 'Vampires,' non-existent creatures of myth, or so they thought. But these creatures were very real indeed. On banners that hung from the grey stone walls of the castle, were rules for the children of Kain to obey and uphold.
The tradition of Respect:
A childer should always honour and respect its Sire. Likewise, a younger vampire should respect the knowledge, power and authority of its elders.
The tradition of Tribute:
A formalization of the tradition of Respect, the master claims half a vampire's income in tribute and divides it among the vampire's elders and himself. The elders naturally approve of this, while the younger kindred sometimes mutter under their breath. Nevertheless, such is the decree of the master.
The eldest living, or should I say, un-living vampire was known as the 'master,' the first ever of his kind, and the last of his kind. He was their leader, their sire, their father, and the reason for their existence. Without him, they were nothing, not even dust in the wind. For, if he were to perish, his 'children' most definitely would too, and so, they protected him with their lives. For their lives were expendable so long as his was saved.
The tradition of Modesty:
A vampire should take care not to create an excessive amount of childer, lest they turn against their Sire, or run away before learned in the ways of the kindred. Also, if the blood becomes too diluted, its power will diminish, and with it the power of all kindred. Herein lies a paradox of the kindred; create childer to further the power of the Master, but in moderation, lest the blood become too thin and the power of the gift wasted.
Rumoured to have been created by Lucifer himself, this demonic creation had once sired thousands to join him. However, their numbers had dwindled like a decreasing flame over the years to fewer than one hundred. A pitiful number for such a supreme race, and it was all thanks to certain mortals who dedicated their lives to diminishing these creatures from the Earth. For, though they seemed immortal, these creatures of darkness did have some weaknesses, and that, was their hearts. Indeed, though they were literally the walking dead with no souls, their hearts still remained. But did emotions also remain with their hearts? Could they feel love, hate, jealousy. Sadness? That was a question with many answers; no mortal actually knew for certain if their opinion was true. But the Kindred knew that love existed; their master loved his mate did he not? Which brings me to the reason for the large yet silent gathering.
The tradition of Progeny:
A vampire should, upon such a time it is learned in the ways of the kindred and its blood is stronger than a mere fledgling's, Kiss those mortals it deems worthy of the gift of blood and who are willing to receive it. The Master wishes for able servants, and so the Sire is responsible for teaching the ways of the kindred to its childer.
Galadria, the most beautiful of female vampires, had graced the halls of the Sanctuary mansion for several centuries. She was the first sire of the master, his life long mate. None could compare to her beauty and elegance. Her long, thick hair, that has once been a rich yet dark brown in her youthful days, but had turned a magnificent black over the years, glistened with silver streaks in her prime, as it now fell to a long length at her full hips and back. The good bone structure of her heart shaped face gave her well-chiselled cheekbones, which her plump red lips merely complimented further. Her nose fit perfectly and in proportion to the rest of her face, the slim bridge slightly forming into a delicate point at the tip, where her thin slits of nostrils were. Now, vampires were known to enchant their victims with their eyes before feeding, which meant that eyes were the ultimate beauty to a vampire. Galadria's were no exception. She had once possessed blue-green eyes of a light tone, which merely accentuated her hair colour and eye's shaped like a cats. However, after being sired and turned, they began to change. No longer the mirrors to her soul, since being dead she no longer possessed a soul, they transformed into pools of the lightest blue, almost grey, so much that their icy hue froze her victims within seconds. She really was the perfect match for the handsome and youthful master, both remaining to resemble not a day older than thirty at the most, and that was pushing it even.
The kindred walk among you, unseen, unheard. They desire nothing from you other than your blood. Beware, lest they curse you with the gift of blood, for then you shall become as one of them, and prey upon the living.
Though Galadria loved all of her children, since she was known as the 'mother,' she had her favourites of course. Compared to the other vampires, these were like a 'super' breed, exceptionally special in the way that they were bred. For, these children were not sired. They were her real children, the offspring of the Master and the Mother. The Master had an obligation when choosing his mate. He had to choose one who possessed inner and outer strength, one who's blood was of the purest, and one whom was innocent, having been touched by no man but him. The result of such high class breeding led to a higher standard of vampires; their senses heightened, their intelligence levels outstanding, and the strength, simply incredible. Unfortunately, though one would think that these offspring would be indestructible, one certain 'slayer' had found a way. He was a traitor, both feared and hated by all creatures of the night. Any who even dared to utter his name would be punished, and so, my own lips will remain sealed, for now. Rumours were that he was a sired vampire, whose mortal mother had been bitten whilst she was in her early stages of pregnancy. The result had been the creation of a powerful vampire, possessing some of the vampire traits, yet being a mortal at the same time. Galadria had attempted on several occasions to persuade him to join the Kindred. But he had chosen a mortal mate, and it had resulted in him being labelled an outcast, a freak for possessing such strong feelings and emotions. Envied, in some cases, for seeing daylight and moonlight, for being able to see his reflection, and create a shadow. He truly was remarkable, and yet, a disgrace at the same time. He had no love for his race, and therefore spent his life eradicating as many vampires from the world as possible. They were evil in his eyes, a threat to the mortals that he loved, the mortals that he swore to protect. It would make any vampire hiss in disgust.
None of the Master's true offspring remained thanks to the Slayer, and Galadria had been determined to reproduce another army of super breeds. After an agonising year, she had finally conceived, and the baby had grown inside her over the nine months, which brings me to the day in which I speak of now. The birth of the next generation of children. Usually, this would've been a day of celebration for all Vampires. However, there had been slight, complications. Past the main hall of the gloomy mansion where the Kindred had gathered, was a spiral of stone steps that led to the chambers of the Master and his mate. A female scream of pain ripped through the silent air, echoing through the halls and reaching the kindred below. They covered their ears and exchanged glances with one another; the situation didn't sound too good.
The master held his mate's hand as she panted for air, her normally pale skin whiter than ever, and her lips a pale blue shade. Her life force was being drained from her, but she continued, determined to give birth to the child, which she had carried for so long. It was her pride, her joy, her gift to the Master and the Kindred. She wasn't about to give up that easily. A vampire skilled in medicine and biology, since he had been a doctor in his mortal life, shook his head negatively as he stood at the foot of the bed. He exchanged glances with a female vampire who was the nurse and his assistant. The Master saw it all, and frowned with both anger and concern.
"Care to let me in on your little conversation? My mate is in pain here, and you waste our time exchanging glances!" Galadria moaned and sucked in a deep intake of breath, alarming the Master as he squeezed her hand even tighter. I'm here, he told her, using the mind connection they had formed through their precious bond.
"She cannot go on your grace, the birth will undoubtedly kill her." Galadria suddenly opened her eyes wide, arched eyebrows rising as she heard the news that she already knew. "She's losing too much blood. We must stop this at once, or she must drink from a mortal."
"NO! I….I MUST go on! I won't let my, our, child, die!" She placed a hand on her large stomach; sweat pouring down her face, neck, and large chest. Her mate ran the back of his hand down her cheek affectionately; assuring her that he was still with her. Galadria had declined the many offers to drink from a mortal and rekindle her own blood supply. She wanted her birth to be natural and pure, without the mixing of a mortal's blood in her system.
"Darling, it doesn't have to be this way. I-"
"No!" She interrupted him with her stubborn and harsh tone, closing her eyes as more pain shot through her. "I am going to have this child!" She suddenly cried out and tried to push once again, before panting for breath. A head began to appear, and the doctor kneeled down at the foot of the grand bed, ready to help with the labour that had already lasted over 3hours. The nurse eased the mother, trying to help her with the breathing whilst wiping the endless amounts of perspiration from her brow.
"Ok, we have a head. I need you to push again my lady." She strained herself as she pushed again, the muscles in her neck and shoulders tensing up as she clamped her teeth together and squeezed her mate's hand. The head eased out a little more, but so did more and more blood. The doctor knew for certain that only a miracle would save the mother.
"Just a little more, you're doing very well." The Master looked lovingly into his mate's eyes, remembering the first time that he'd laid his own eyes on her. She had been his Eve, and he, the serpent, had stolen her from her Adam. The result had changed both of their lives dramatically. She had been the servant girl to an ancient Pharaoh, and the daughter of a rich merchant. The Master had wooed her, courted her, and then welcomed her to his world, which she welcomed gratefully. No one would expect them to be the cause of so many deaths in the times of famine and disease. It was paradise, and they had sired many childers from that day forth, who were now the elders of the kindred. He was so proud of her tough spirit and love of living her new life to the fullest. If he lost her, he'd be nothing. His broken heart would decay and rot in his depression, making him unfit to lead his children. That would be his downfall.
The tradition of Challenges:
To prevent chaotic diablerie among the kindred, a formalized challenging system has arisen. The challenger goes to the Master and challenges the offender, and if he agrees to a duel, it will take place as soon as the offender accepts the challenge, and will end with only one survivor.
Galadria once again cried out, gasping for more air to fill her tired and empty lungs. She was weakening every second, realisation dawning on her. But she had chosen her own path, and now, she had to succeed, it was her obligation and her last wish. If she was to go, then she wanted to leave something for her mate to remember her by. It was the best gift that she could give to him, knowing that he had wanted another child for so long.
"Galadria? Darling?" She opened her heavy eyes and moaned, her focus clearing so that she could see her mate's handsome face close to her own. She'd fallen in love the moment she'd let eyes on him. He had the figure of a God, resembling the many statues and drawings of Re, Amun-Re, and Horus. Galadria resembled Isis, known in Egypt as the Goddess who resembled the perfect mother. The Master was Osiris, Isis' husband and God of the afterlife and father to Horus, the name she had given to her second born. Her mate hadn't changed since the day they'd first met. He'd posed as a Roman warrior, complete with rippling muscles, yet not overly built. He's swept her off her feet, not caring about the fact that she was a mere servant girl. By the seventh day, he'd killed her, and she'd re-awakened as she was today, a vampire and his mate. She had never been so happy, and never would be so happy again.
"Galadria, can you hear me?" She saw him frown, something she revelled in since he looked adorable when he frowned in such a gentle, caring way. Who said vampires where heartless? She certainly wasn't, and neither was he.
"Yes, my love?" He sighed with relief and nodded to the doctor, who had been talking to her, but she hadn't responded.
"Just one more push, that's all we ask."
But that was one push that she didn't think she could do. She swallowed hard and nodded, feeling him squeeze her hand tightly as she gathered some strength.
"After 3?" An encouraging smile tugged at the corners of his thin, masculine lips, and she managed to smile, nodding slightly.
"One, two,….three!" She put all her strength into the final push, lifting her head up and squeezing her mate's hand as her face flushed red. Her head fell back onto the soft pillow and she gasped for air as a scream ripped through the tense room, crying out as the new life breathed in air for the first time. The Master exhaled a short breath, his eyes wide under neat, risen eyebrows. There stood the doctor, holding his child his, creation. Galadria fought hard to open her eyes, trying to save the little strength that she had left. She had to see her child; she just had to, even if it was just for one fraction of a second.
"Congratulations my lady, you have a healthy baby girl." The chubby nurse smiled and carried the baby over once the umbilical cord had been cut. She was still crying loudly, but as soon as her mothers arms encircled her, her cries died down, and she stared up with the bluest, most enchanting eyes. Galadria gasped with joy and relief. She'd done it, she'd bought yet another life into the world, and this one would live! She was sure of it. Her mate kissed her forehead, before lingering on her lips and finally looking down at his daughter. The baby stared at her father, blue eyes meeting black. She resembled her mother mostly, complete with curious, large eyes. But, for now, she had inherited her father's jet-black hair. Who could tell what else she had inherited, until she'd grown up of course. The Master was determined not to let his daughter perish like the rest of his children. She would grow into a beautiful vampire, and he would be proud. No mortal would lay a hand on her, or he would personally punish them until they begged him for death, to be released from the pain and torture he would make them suffer. Yes, his daughter was precious, as precious as his mate. With a nod from the Master, the nurse and doctor left, waiting outside until they were needed next. The Master smiled and cupped his mate's chin in his palm, bringing his lips close to hers.
"I love you Galadria, always have, and always will." He kissed her passionately once more, always loving the feeling of her soft lips pressed against his, the way her tongue would casually glide against the tip of his lower lip. She smiled as his lips eventually lifted from hers, he didn't want to suck her energy from her afterall.
"You talk like…. I'm about to die." He smiled in spite of himself; she always had been satirical, even now on her deathbed, a bed that had once been their marital bed.
"Valvador, I," she paused to inhale, an action which was becoming more and more difficult with her raspy breaths. Only she was permitted to call him by his name, which others would not dare to even whisper.
"I want you to….to take good care…of…our daughter, our, Videl. And, I….I love you so much darling, with…all...my heart." The words rolled off her tongue and escaped her lips in quiet mutters, barely audible by her mate. He frowned slightly at her words, and looked at the sleeping babe who Galadria held close to her.
"Videl?" Galadria nodded, barely, and the Master smiled, lifting his daughter's tiny hand into his own, the little devil, he could already tell that she was going to be mischievous, especially if she took after her mother. "I won't let her out of my sight. That, I promise to you, my love."
Galadria managed a sweet smile and gazed lovingly at her mate, before inhaling her last breath as her heart finally gave in. No more pain, her voice ringed through his mind as her chest lowered and remained still. She exhaled for the last time in her lifetime, and the Master, Valvador, felt a twinge at his own heart as her eyes stared mindlessly ahead.
"NO! No, Galadria, please, don't give up! Not yet! You can't leave me, I-"
He stopped himself from shaking her shoulders to try to revive her for just a second, just to say goodbye one last time. Instead, he brushed his palm over her eyelids, closing them over her staring blank and lifeless eyes, and then sunk back into his velvet-cushioned chair, lowering his head into his hands. It was too late, and Valvador fought hard to remain sane. He tried hard to not completely break down from the trauma that he was feeling, how would the kindred react to that? He would be shunned, declared as weak, and mocked. No, he had to remain sane, even though his heart beat hard against his chest as the reality of the situation dawned on him, his body shaking. She was gone, for good and forever, and there was no way he could ever revive her. He was all alone, no mate, and no life.
Videl started to cry once more, reminding her father that she was still breathing, and was very much real. Valvador lifted her into his own loving arms, looking down at her with gentle eyes until she calmed down and closed her eyelids. This was all he had left of Galadria, and so, Videl was special. He would look after her, just like he'd promised. As he shifted his eyes from the sleeping babe to his mate, his love, his life, a single tear fell from his eye. It was rumoured that vampires only ever cried tears of blood, and that was true in some cases. But this tear was different. It was clear, and made of a salt-water liquid. Valvador felt it tickle his skin as it travelled down his cheek, and fall off his broad chin. He continued to stare at his deceased mate, and the single tear fell onto his daughter, landing on her forehead like a baptismal gesture. It was a blessing, a mysterious and unknown gift given to her and her alone. For, that tear, was the sign of pure, true love, something that many never experienced, or failed to experience, especially vampires and creatures of the night. But from that day forth, the last child of Valvador and Galadria was miraculously blessed with the gift to feel the purest of love, even though she possessed no true soul.