For Mirri. It sucks. Sorry, but it does. Turel is someone I definitely can not write about…
Still Standing
By Kia Vail-Kagami
Outside the walls of the stronghold the rain was falling. Turel could hear the soft, steady sound that humans might have found comforting and through the window of his chambers high up over the place that had once been called Dark Eden he could see it fall – small, heavy drops that passed his view on their final journey down to earth.
Had they not become gods in times long passed, he mused as he watches them go by. How could it be that they had the power to keep out the sun and yet were unable to stop the rain from falling – for he was an old vampire and so to him the little drops of water were far more dangerous than the sun could ever be.
Rahab was different, though. He had become resistant to water, they said, and Turel had seen him walk in the rain himself. His children, it seemed, were following his evolution, but they were weak to the sun and easily burned. They could not threaten any of the other clans and so far they showed no desire to try. Instead Rahab and his clan had retreated to their stronghold and there were rumours going through the empire that they were about to move to an ancient abbey, sunken deep into a lake centuries ago. They were true. Turel knew it, because Rahab himself had told him about his plans. Because he was the oldest and had a right to know first, right after Kain.
To Turel it seemed as if the whole clan was going to disappear from the surface of the world. Another clan, as Melchiah and his weak children had already retreated into safer grounds years ago. Rahab had never been ambitious but his silent leaving of the stage was not something Turel had truly expected, nor did he like it. For it added to the air of decay that had started to creep over the empire with the end of the first clan, though the following ones left a lot more silent and remained around to seek and find and perhaps to summon to war if needed. Yet he had had not objected, as Lord Kain appeared to have no objections either. The war against the humans was over anyway, their few scattered remains little more that running food for their immortal rulers and unable to stand up against them ever again.
Yes, they were controlling Nosgoth like no-one had done it ever before. This was the land of the vampires, with no enemies left and nothing to threaten them but the sun and the rain. And still, Turel looked out of the window over the wide, open lands below him, the woods and mountains, to the horizon behind which he knew the sanctuary of the clans to be, and the ruined pillars and the abyss and knew that the days of glory were forever gone.
A movement caught his eye. On a balcony below him he could see two of his fledglings stepping out to look over the land, apparently discussing something. They were clad in heavy hooded coats to be save from the rain and had their backs turned to him so he could not make out their faces. Still he identified one of them as Rahul, in his service for half a dozen centuries and easily recognised by being much smaller and less strong than everyone else around. Not a fighter, unlike the rest of his clan and only part of it by a wired twist of fate. His master allowed himself a small affectionate smile for this was one of his favourites, but he could not help but wonder if perhaps that tall, heavy and strong warrior out there in the rain and the weak child beside him were a symbol for what their race had been, and what is was becoming.
Melchiah had disappeared, hardly even attending to the meetings of the brethren anymore. Rahab was following and Zephon, while mean and twisted, preferred to play his little games with his humans only now, keeping his clan in their own area, where no-one was stronger than him.
Only Dumah remained around, but he as well liked to keep to himself more now, without any doubt plotting something. He was the ambitious one, never contend with his position of the third after Kain, or the second. Turel knew he would not even be satisfied with the position he himself was holding now, and Kain knew it as well. Yet, his Lord did nothing about it, leaving Turel to wonder. What was it that Kain expected him to do? Weather he should sit back and watch while Dumah defeated himself, or leave it to Kain to take him down, he did nor know, nor if it was up to him to stop his brother once his plans got too obvious. He refused to wonder what Raziel would have done.
For Raziel was gone, and he was still here.
Here, at the position he had gained by remaining loyal to his Lord. It had not been his wish to get were he was, but since he was at this point, he would do what he could to prove himself worthy. Even if he had to throw every single of his brothers into the dark grave of the abyss.
He did not regret what he had done. Nothing he had ever done. There was no guilt. Turel knew that by the believe some of the humans still held countless actions had already condemned him to an eternity in hell but he also had done much for the fact that by now for those who were against them hell was only the beginning.
When he allowed himself the luxury of looking back over his life he knew that he would do everything again, over and over, might there be a hell waiting for him at the end of his days or not. He was not afraid of what was coming.
Sometimes, though, he watched the rain fall like he did now and tried to imagine the agony when the water of the abyss burned the skin off an immortal body, then the flesh. But not for long. There were other things to think about and so Turel turned away from the window like he did about every time and walked out of the room to see how the younger fledglings were doing in their training for battle. For this was the one clan that was still standing, strong and proud, at Kain's side.
And before them all stood Turel himself, and he would remain standing there as long as his Lord would let him. He knew what he had to do and he would do it, like he always had. There was nothing to regret.
And yet, sometimes, when there was nothing else to do and the rain kept falling the entire night, he opened the window and let the cold water run over his unprotected hand, to feel it burn.
-end-
August 13, 2005
