1"The unreal is more powerful than the real, because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. because its only intangible ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. stone crumbles. wood rots. people, well, they die. but things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on."
~Chuck Palahniuk
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They we're very happy. They were terrible times of immortal war, but they we're happy. The world seemed to avoid them. Like they were the boulder in the middle of a river. The world would run around it. The world would pass over it. The world would rush to wetly, to hard across it. But the rock would never move. They would never move.
His name was Ulisse. Her name was Vera. They both came from simple worlds before the immortal kiss. One's full of crops and families. She had hair the pale blonde color of the wheat, as he did. Pale in life, and death. They we're from France, just in the days of Gaul. In their divinity, they were blessed enough for love. The undeterred and passionate love of an immortal.
But how long could that last? Does love really last forever? Can something be infinite?
I suppose that is for you to determine.
Ulisse lost his beloved. He lost her for many many years. But do miracles happen? Or is it unbeknownst fate yet to be grasped by the hand of immortals and mortals alike on this earth, or never.
Her pale hair burned. Her imaged was seared, like so many of the unfortunates to lose their loves, into the back of his eyes.
Could he burn? Would he burn?
The blood held no more real taste. Their was nothing to savor. Humanity held to little interest in him as he to them, as did immortality those days.
Please, do no think this a random act. I beg of you. Think of it as fate. Like two mortals, however you like, suddenly walk into one another's paths. However it may be! Just picture them slowly turning their heads only to see their heart staring back at them. The heart they have forever so longed for. It is there. It is there.
1920's. Ulisse, he stands, in this modern era, so diffrent, on a rainy sidewalk. There are clouds but the rain has momentarily ceased. It is in a Floridian neighborhood. Far from France, once known as Gaul, once known as home, now only to have coveted his memories of wheat hair and a whispering voice that sent chills down his arctic spine.
But, back to the endeavor, Ulisse is quite alone. By impulse, spontaneous impulse, he turns his head. Slowly, it would almost seem for a vampire. His large crimson eyes beheld a girl, the mortal age of his Vera. She stood, alone, across the street, waiting to cross to the shops by which he stood. His eye's never left her figure. Her mortal figure that, first, gave him a rage beyond any he had ever felt. It quickly passed. He felt pity, briefly, f or himself. Ashamed, he watched her. The girl that was Vera as a human, which he knew was impossible, but still comforted him. Ulisse knew he would pay dearly for this. The grief of the new memory. One that could not burn, but he coveted for himself. But it was truly not his.
He followed the girl, at the age of maybe nineteen or a year younger for a long while. She walked down, looking various places. He was always sure never to be seen. She never bought anything. The girl became a strange enigma to Ulisse.
It wasn't until the park that she stopped. A river lead through the water's. a walkway boarding the shore of it. A river boat was heard to him in the far away water. It didn't matter. He wanted the girl. He wanted her blood, he wanted her face, he wanted to hear her speak, he wanted to hear her say things that he really didn't care about, he wanted to know what she thought, he wanted to know who she loved, what her family was like, if she had siblings, or if she was sad, too. He wanted to kn ow why she was staring out onto the river. Why was she alone?
In his ponder, he failed to notice her walk closer. She was not frightened.
She held out her hand. Not as a shake. Not as one to hold.
One to touch.
"Hello," she said merely. A weak smile on her face that was a comfort to him. That was Vera's smile. It's not Vera. He told himself.
His hand met her's.
have you ever had a infinite moment. When the universe suddenly makes sense. You know why everything is everything and what will happen to you in twenty years. It finally makes perfect sense why it rained on you yesterday, or why he left you for a girl who will never love him enough. The whole world just falls. It gets so screwed up it works out?
They stood, only a moment.
"I know you." she said. "I know you." she said with such confidence. Ulisse didn't know why. He intertwined his hand within her's.
"I know." he said simply. They walked away.
He bit her, and her memory, her real memory, rushed clearly into her old/new mind. It was no longer scary dreams, or sad dreams. It was no longer empty in the Vera girl. It was happy ever after.
What has happened here, witness, is something that is not explained any better way as a second chance. Some stronger then others.
It has now only recently be theorized by the royal vampire coven of Italy, by the prof of only Vera and Ulisse by the witness of memory by Aro, that you can have a second chance. Some memories are just to potent to shun into another life.
A vampire's dream. Humanity as an empty shell. But humanity, nonetheless, correct?
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"I want to find her."
"Marcus, she could already be long gone. You don't-!"
"I want to find her"
"YOU don't know she's there! She could be anywhere!"
"Find her"
"Your mad! Aro, say something, now"
"She could be gone. What then?"
"Then, then. . ." sigh.
It was silent.
"She's your sister. . .your baby sister."
Silence.
"Dear God, fine. Fine!" tense.
Anger. Calm.
"None of them would ever tell. . ."
"No."
"Sit, Macrus, brother. She will not die."
"How can you say that?!"
Slam of door.
Sigh.
"I just hope. . ."
"Please, Aro, hope cannot help him anymore."
