A/N: I was going to put the opening half of this chapter at the end of Chapter V, but I decided against it. I am SO SO Sorry for the late update, but I hope you all enjoy this. (Jedi Skysinger told me to split the original chapter up so this is what happens when one tires to make one chapter out of two. facepalms.) Thank God that I am in possession of the TB Manga and that I now got my paws on the TB boxset. (WHEEE!) - because I look to the actual material I need so I can capture the essence of TB's world of politics, especially assassination attempts. Well, fortunately for you all I brought back our favorite Catholic priest and our favorite vampire noble and I brought in a certain blonde Albian Methuselah. ^^ And there are characters in this chapter based off of my BFFs Naomi-chan and Jedi Skysinger (who now has her own FF. net profile.) Here it is: Chapter VI
Chapter VI: The Streets of Old Londinium
I wander through each chartered street
Near where the chartered Thames does flow
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weariness, marks of woe
- William Blake, London
Twilight began its slow descent upon the sky, making the sunset gleam with a venomous, vermillion glow, foretelling the blood that could be spilt when the night would finally descend. He prayed that the ominous forewarning would not come to pass.
Currently sitting in a luxurious train compartment, staring out towards the horizon and its lurid radiance, Abel Nightroad couldn't help but be reminded of the vile images of death from his dark past. He would have preferred to forget these haunting memories, but the Fates(1), it seemed, enjoyed toying with him too much to ever let that happen. Normally, he didn't appreciate traveling by train. He'd complained once to Cardinal Caterina that he hated the rough ride; however, she had ordered him to take that means of transportation for Barcelona in a tone that brooked no insolence.
Barcelona. The beautiful capital of the independent Catalonia Dukedom that the neighboring Kingdom of Hispania was then most envious of. However, that beautiful jewel of the Iberian peninsula had long since been destroyed. Overnight, almost all of its inhabitants were dead and its Grande edifices were in ruins. Many claimed that an earthquake had destroyed the city, but many that night had heard the powerful strains of music from a pipe organ and the sound of iron bells. Abel knew the truth, those who perished that night were dead because of him.
It was that night when Abel had first met the dark, cryptic Magician of the Order of Rosenkreuz, Isaak Fernando von Kämpfer. Abel had had the chance and the power to take him down, but he had showed restraint at the wrong moment. Then Isaak had activated the Silent Noise, a super-weapon that used ultra sonic waves to simulate seismic ruptures. The music he had made with his instrumental weapon was a mockery of a funeral hymn to all those who met their demise that night.
He couldn't save a single one of them, with all the power he had, he couldn't save them, violating his vow to her, his fallen beloved. He had promised her that he would never take the life of another, nor allow anyone to die, in atonement for his sins.
Worse yet, he couldn't save even the precious life of his closest comrade, Sister Noélle Bor.
They had arrived in Barcelona to investigate how a government palace that had stood since pre-Armageddon days could collapse, seemingly overnight. Abel had originally planned on informing Caterina that the building had fallen due to weakness in structure and return to Rome the following evening. Noélle, on the other hand, had planned that the two of them should see the sights and enjoy the experiences Barcelona had to offer. As they were enjoying dinner together it seemed that Noélle was enjoying the wine more than her food. When she asked how he felt about her, she had asked: "Do you like me?" But it had had so many layers of meaning. They had watched a sunset similar to the one outside the compartment window on that evening over the majestic Mediterranean.
Sadly, right before they were due to return to the hostel, she had confessed to him her deepest feelings of love... for him. Him... A monster... Yes, he did like her and he had answered that he was honored to have a "special friend." Yet he couldn't bear to look at her in her heartbreak. Yet what hurt worse than that was that he knew that he couldn't really offer her anything more than his friendship. How could a woman like her love him, a monster whose hands were stained with blood, even with her empathic powers? However, it was that very rejection that cost her life.
As the city was crumbling, breaking apart at the seams all around them, he had ordered her to get out of the pharmaceutical building which she was investigating. However... she never made it out. In his rage, he had destroyed the device that had caused all this destruction and he nearly killed that accursed Magician. But, Isaak had escaped into the shadows, his taunts echoing behind him. All Abel could do was fall onto his knees and cry out with the rage and sorrow. Even in human form, his voice still held the metallic roar of the Crusnik and his tears still resembled crimson droplets of blood.
When he had returned to Rome the following day, rain was pouring out of the sky as if Heaven was crying with him. All the grief and guilt was still fresh in his mind as if the atrocity had just happened moments before.
Oh how I wish for soothing rain
Oh how I wish to dream again
My loving heart, lost in the dark
For hope I'd give my everything (2)
He had let the ice cold droplets drench him to the core. Though this punishment wasn't enough for his sins, he would take what he could get. Then he remembered. When he had mourned Noélle at the Fountain of Neptune in the Navona Plaza (3), Esther had been there for him, trying her best to comfort him. It almost wasn't enough; he nearly resigned from the AX because of his failure. Caterina had also tried to persuade him that what happened in Barcelona wasn't his own making, but he felt that if he couldn't save all those lives, even the life of a comrade, a failure such as him should no longer be in the AX. However, Esther was still persistent and she still tried... for him. If she had given up, he probably wouldn't have come back. If it weren't for her... God only knows what shape the world would have been in.
She found him sitting in front of the chapel where he and Noélle first met. Her words came back into memory.
"When someone dear to us is lost, the only things that can offer us comfort are memories of the better times we shared. I did the exact same thing when Bishop Laura died..."
He had gotten up to leave, but then she turned to yell out:
"Father, wait! Please! Her Eminence! Lady Caterina and the others are all in terrible danger!"
It was then that he realized that he had to remain in the AX. No matter what grief he still felt over Noélle's death, he had to protect the humans, he couldn't let them die, he couldn't violate the oath he made to her once more.
It was later on that he learned that Caterina's uncle, the traitorous Archbishop Alfonso D'Este, had hired the Order of Rosenkreuz to create "the ultimate weapon" and had ordered them to test it on the City of Barcelona so he could destroy Rome, the Pope, Francesco and Caterina along with the city. Though the dark Magician was ordered to take out the Duchess of Milan separately from the rest, Abel saved Cardinal Sforza, but he let Isaak get away.
However, his most ever present thought was the girl that was now the only one who was left for him to love.
Even though he hated the rough ride a train had to offer, the experience still held many memories about her. He remembered that day when he brought her from István to Rome. While traveling he heard the tale of her mortal life. Abel knew exactly how she felt when she lost Bishop Laura and when her best friend was "killed" and when her world crumbled around her when the Military Police burned the only home she ever knew to the ground. He had been where Esther was that night, it was a place of darkness, rage and pain and it was where he never wanted to be again.
Abel knew what he preached. He strived to teach others who were on that terrible edge that there was hope, that there was a better place for them to be than where they were at. He even showed a child, Elise Wasmeyer, that message.
Then when she was arrested by the Military Police for the murder of Colonel Radcon, the night before, he had asked that if Esther was to be taken he would go too.
I don't understand. Why, Father?
You have to ask? Really? Well, it is because I am your friend. I will always be on your side.
When she had thought she was all alone, he had told her the words that had formed in his heart at that moment. The lapis lazuli depths that were her eyes widened and glistened with tears. He comforted her when she cried and in return he made her laugh with his jokes and gentle teasing. Her laugh was like that of a pealing silver bell, it was when she laughed, she was her true self, a happy, optimistic teenage girl.
Esther Blanchett. There were many things about her that brought Lilith back to mind. She had the exact same beautiful, ruby strands of hair and held a strong determination for justice. But, the reason why he loved her wasn't because she was Lilith, Esther was herself, the unique, precious star he loved. Her title in the Albian Kingdom was "Star of Hope." It suited her perfectly. She was a star that gave off the most beautiful, brilliant light, and it burned brightly with rays of hope. She was so pure, so lovely that he couldn't help but be drawn to her. Him, vile... monstrous... deplorable creature...
After Lilith's death, his promise and now Esther, his star of hope, were the only things left to tie him to this world.
"Father," the voice of the Methuselah nobleman standing across from him snapped him out of his silent revere.
"Yes, Your Excellency?" the priest asked.
"We have arrived to Londinium."
Abel looked out the compartment window and, sure enough, the sun was no longer burning the sky. In Night's war with the Day, it had finally prevailed and its black banner now cloaked the skies.
Was I thinking for that long? Abel asked himself, then stood up. "Very well," he said to Ion. "Thank you, Your Excellency."
"A leader is a dealer in hope.(3)"
She gives hope to all those around her... but I see more than just hope in her eyes. I see despair, grief and guilt.
Esther Blanchett was the daughter of Crown Prince Gilbert and Princess Victoria von Ostmark, and more importantly, the granddaughter of my closest friend, Queen Bridget II. I saw Esther's grandmother grow from childhood to adolescence, when she ascended the Throne at fifteen, yet most painfully, I saw her death. She had personally asked me to be present when she had prophesied Esther's coming to the Throne and she prophesied of the era of world peace that would come under her rule before she died. Even before Esther had ascended to the Throne, I swore to serve her, as I had served Bridget.
However, I can no longer watch from a distance as she causes pain to herself over the loss of him.
I always had a suspicion of who he was, the priest that fell under the hand of the Contra Mundi. I knew where he came from and what he was. The second creation of the Genetic Manipulation Project, Lieutenant Colonel of the Red Mars Project, the God of Slaughter, the Angel of Destruction, yet above all Crusnik 02. -Unbelievable how he who had once hated humans had now chose to serve them as a priest, of all things.- However, I know of Lady Esther's feelings toward him. But we both already knew that they could never be together: he who had eternity and she who was a mortal. Their lives only lasted for a blink of an eye, not only for immortals, but for near-immortals, like me.
I decided to pay an informal visit to Her Majesty as she was readying for bed. I did not mean to eavesdrop on her conversation with her handmaidens, Sarah and Naomi, but my sensitive ears were already set in motion.
"Lady Esther... I don't know what to think. I know you loved that priest, but..." she made a sound of frustrated annoyance. "Well, all I know is if I were in a graveyard on Allhallows' Eve at midnight, I wouldn't trust anything that happened in there," Sarah finished with barely suppressed anger.
"Sarah, what happened there was no delusion. Neither the Sybil or the message she gave me. It is thanks to her that I now know that he lives."
Sarah snorted. "It has been two years Lady Esther. Two Years. If he was alive all this time, why didn't he return to you or even let you know that he was still alive?" she challenged.
"Um, Sarah... you need to calm down," Naomi warned.
Sarah then took deep breaths and I could already see that Naomi's magic was at work. Naomi always had an uncanny ability to calm one's raging emotions, so much so she could calm a raging bull, and Sarah was no exception.
"Lady Esther... you've got to get over him. Its not healthy," Sarah said, in a calmer tone.
"Sarah, he gave me hope when I had lost it, and now I finally found it again."
"'Hope?' You call that hope? If he was alive all this time, 'protecting' you by letting you think he was dead, letting you agonize and suffer and you call that hope?"
Esther looked as though Sarah had slapped her. Her handmaiden's chagrin told me that she had already realized that she had overstepped her bounds as both a bondservant and a friend.
"Sorry, sorry," she mumbled, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to suggest... I mean, what I meant was…"
"What she means," Naomi cut in smoothly, "is that you have been hurt so before in your relationship with Father Nightroad. Sarah just doesn't want to see you get hurt again."
"What she said," Sarah agreed, staring at the floor, unable to meet Her Majesty's gaze.
I took my leave of them then quickly and quietly. I decided that whatever else I might have to add to the conversation could wait for morning.
The streets of Londinium were painted with a yellowish glow from the street lights above and the lights of far-off buildings glistened the night sky. But these artificial "stars" could not outshine the blood-red hue of the Vampire's Moon, now glowing alone as its pure silver sister had vanished. At this hour of the night, the city was bustling, not only with humans, but also with beings who were considered "non human."
The Kingdom of Albion was the only Human State in which both humans and vampires, Terran and Methuselah, seemingly co-existed. There are those on both sides that naturally feared and hated one another. The humans fear all those they don't understand and it was in their history and superstitions that the vampires are not to be trusted and merely lust for blood. Then, there are the Methuselah, who have been continuously hunted down by these "humans" after the Armageddon, reinforcing their core belief that they must kill to survive, not only for the blood that the bacilli craves, but also for the right to live undisturbed.
However, Queen Esther I had shown both races of the Albian Kingdom that they could live peacefully together without killing. However, there were humans, not only amongst foreign territories, but in her home country as well that had dubbed her both a traitor and a witch. Due to the Vatican's influence in Albion, all those who would oppose Her Majesty had been silenced. Nevertheless, those who hated both the Vatican and Her Majesty would use any means necessary to get their message across. These are no mere vampire terrorists, they are humans; humans bloodier than the "vampires" they loathe and fear.
These are the ones that call themselves the Knights of Tudor. These are the ones who name themselves after one of the bloodiest rulers Albion had ever known, dating back over one thousand, five hundred, ten years of Pre-Armageddon History to "purify" their country as Queen Mary I had tried to long ago. And their poison is spreading rapidly amongst the people.
Currently walking on the pavement of a well known path he had walked so long ago, a priest and his hooded companion were only now beginning to notice the odd stares they were getting. Abel distracted by his memories of not only Esther, but his time in Londinium as a creation of the Template of the Gods Project, had not been aware of the stares. It hadn't really penetrated his brain that there could not be so few rooms available, even with a full session of Parliament coming up. Ion, however, had picked up on the hostility and had guessed the probable cause long before Abel had caught on. He let the priest know in no certain terms what he thought after the third innkeeper had advised them they were full.
After considering it a moment, Abel had to admit that the Count of Memphis was correct in its cause, but perhaps not its result. People seemed more afraid of being around Ion than of Ion. Like they were afraid they would be considered guilty by association or even the collateral damage in an attack on Ion. The fourth place they entered was different. The proprietor said point blank, "We don't serve their kind here." Abel had to restrain Ion from defending his honor and told the man frostily that the Vatican did not do business with "his" kind, as in narrow-minded, bigoted loud mouths who put more stock in the volume of their argument than the thought behind it, and they exited.
So it was with trepidation that they entered their next stop. A small, off-the-main-path little bed and breakfast place, a historical building tucked into the streets of the city near the Palace that had obviously been well cared for in its centuries of life.
The proprietress, who answered them appeared to be in her late thirties, early forties. Golden blonde hair, forming slight curls at the ends, fell to hang gracefully on her shoulders and saxe blue eyes twinkled at them from behind her glasses.
"Well... this is a pleasant surprise," she said, without any hint of sarcasm or disgust. "Normally we don't get guests at this time of night, especially from the Vatican or the Night Clan, but we will welcome anyone who is weary," she smiled.
"We thank you," Abel said with gratitude in fluent Albionese, though still sounding glum. "We have been searching for lodging for hours."
"Come then. I can't have my guests waiting out here in the cold like this." She opened the door for them and gestured they come inside.
"You two must be hungry. I just made supper, you might as well join me," she said after locking the door securely.
Abel's stomach growled in response. Ion smirked under his hand and said nothing.
"Apparently I've woken someone up," their host remarked. She turned to Ion, "I believe I have something for you as well, young master."
"Would it be too much to hope it came with some opium and a pinch of sugar?" the Count of Memphis queried, his Albionese thick with the Imperial accent.
"We are at your service, my young guest."
The bed and breakfast was a homey little place that naturally brought warmth to all who entered. It wasn't grand as the popular hotels that had just denied them entrance, but the priest and the nobleman were content that they had a place to stay. The lobby area was rough hewn wood beams and paneling with a huge stone hearth in the far wall. A fire roared in its center, heating various kettles and pots that hung over it. Abel about nearly hit his head on the faux candelabra chandelier as he stepped towards the large raised bar opposite the fireplace.
She led them into another room which held a large round table surrounded by eight wooden chairs. The center of the table had a symbol carved into it was a striking broadsword held in the clutches of a woman's hand rising out of an endless lake. The furniture was the same dark wood as the beams and paneling, a deep hue and obviously ancient. The proprietress returned with a silver tray and upon it were three king sized plates of fish and chips, right out of the fryer. The fish was encrusted with a generous coating of a batter that smelled heavenly and the chips were a delectable, crispy golden brown. Those were just the main dish; there was also a gigantic bowl of salad and hot out of the oven black bread. The beverages were a flagrant floral tea, along with Aqua Vitae, the Methuselah life water, held in an opaque glass filled to the brim with the thick, red liquid.
"Va multumesc- Many thanks," Ion smiled.
"I don't know how to say it in your tongue, but you're welcome."
She set the tray down and handed out the plates. The moment Abel received his, he began wolfing down on two pieces of fish.
The hostess stared wide-eyed as she sat down and said, "You were hungry…"
Abel responded in full-mouthed gibberish at her comment.
"First take care of that food in your gob... then speak in a more recognizable human language," she chastised with smirk.
Abel swallowed loudly, then said, "I haven't eaten like this in a long time."
"Anything else you want besides food?" she asked.
"If you could please add a little bit of milk and thirteen sugars to my tea?"
"Excuse me, Father. Perhaps I heard you wrong, I thought you said you wanted thirteen sugars with your tea."
"You heard me correctly, Miss... well, I don't remember what your name is."
The proprietress smiled. "You never asked, Father. But if you want to know for future reference, my name is Ruth," she said as she loaded the porcelain cup to the brim with sugar.
The young Methuselah drained the glass. "Most excellent," he enthused. "We compliment you."
"'We?'" she cocked an eyebrow. "Have you a squirrel in your pocket then, young master?"
Abel, who had been consuming his salad with great gusto, almost choked on it.
In that awkward pause, a large feline ambled into to the room and called in a musical meow that said, "Where's mine?" in no uncertain terms.
"Wh-What is that?" Ion asked, leaning away from the brown and black furred cat who was the size of a small dog.
"It's a cat, my young guest. A rare breed in these parts. It's a Maine Coon."
"It's a what?" echoed the priest.
"Descendents of Viking cats by way of New England. A very ancient breed, indeed."
"Oh." Ion eyed it suspiciously as the cat began to strop at his boots. "It is much larger than our lady grandmother's pet," he finished with a shudder.
"He just wants to say hello. He doesn't bite," she smirked, "much."
Ion started to draw his legs up into the chair.
Ruth smiled. "Truthfully, he just wants to know what's for dinner. Let me assure you, my young guest, he is far more interested in what is on the good Father's plate than in chewing on you."
She rose up from the table and the feline obligingly followed her to hearth, where he began chowing down on the contents of his bowl with great enthusiasm.
"Are you both here for the Parliament session tomorrow?" the hostess eventually asked as she returned to the table.
"In some ways, yes." Abel replied.
"Not surprising. Apparently everyone is, from the lowest commoner to the highest noble, from the natives to the foreigners. All have to see, not only Her Majesty, but also the results of the session concerning the peace treaty with the Empire, the Vatican, how to keep the Iquistion of our backs and of course how to deal with those bloody terrorists."
"Terrorists? Do you mean the Order of -" Ion nearly asked, but Ruth cut him off.
"No. I am not talking about those lunatic Germanics, I'm talking about the Knights of Tudor."
"The Knights of Tudor?" Abel repeated.
"You don't know about them? Clearly you've not been in Albion much. They started raising hell a short while after Her Majesty was crowned. Originally, the Methuselah were supposed to stay in their underground city and supply us our technology, which is manufactured throughout Europe. However, two years ago when Queen Bridget II, who looked out for the Methuselah, died, an uprising came. They demanded their freedom and the acknowledgement that they were the ones who created the technology."
She paused and looked over her guests. Father Nightroad was now concentrating on making a dessert out of the black bread and the crock of fresh strawberry jam at the center of the table. Ion, however, although nibbling a crust of the bread, still appeared intrigued.
"Have you not heard this tale?" she queried.
"Perhaps you know details that we do not?" the nobleman offered mildly.
"Perhaps. You see, that was just the beginning of Albion's sorrow. A warship under the control of the Order of Rosenkreuz nearly destroyed our beloved city, inciting the people into panic, well of course the Vatican and Albion's Military blew up the damn thing, but that isn't the point at the moment. However the true miracle that night happened when Her Majesty spoke to us, she granted us her words of wisdom and gave us hope that she could lead Albion into an era of peace and coexistence between our two races. She is a ruler who blots out all shadows with the light of her goodness and Her Majesty surely has been blessed by God's light. But there are those that don't want the light to shine upon them, for they seek and love the darkness and those are the Tudor Knights.(5)"
The priest finally looked up from his plate. "So you mean the Knights want to revert Albion back to its old ways of isolationism and slavery?" he asked.
"Precisely. The Methuselah can now walk hand in hand with humans along the streets of Londinium; however, the Knights seek to frighten them back into the Ghetto. Worse yet, humans are now becoming frightened because they believe they will either be considered guilty by association and killed or become collateral damage in an attack." She shook her head in disgust.
"So they are randomly targeting anyone associated with the Methuselah?" the Count of Memphis appeared shocked.
"I don't think anything they do is random, my young guest. Originally, they targeted just those in the Order of the Round Table..."
"Order of the Round Table?" Abel interrupted quizzedly.
"A certain political party who supports Her Majesty's ideals," Ruth explained, while running her fingers over the ancient wood. "It began in Albion but now it has many different branches throughout our side of Europe. But now even those who associate themselves with the Vatican or members of the clergy are targets. Just a few hours ago they blew up St. Paul's, a pre-Armageddon cathedral, killing not only their target but also bystanders, citizens of Albion... both men, women and children…" She bit her lip to keep the venomous anger from spilling out.
Ion swore an oath, in the Imperial language, that, while the exact phrase was unknown, the intent was clear.
"Bloody bastards," the innkeeper agreed. "My husband might not care much for Methuselah, but he doesn't believe they have the right to be slaughtered. He goes by the common belief of 'you don't bother them, they won't bother you.' However, the Tudor Knights target not only Catholics, which he is by the bye, but also their fellow citizens of Albion and they are willing to put innocent women and children in danger for the sake of their ideals."
"You mean to say they just are like the former Radical Faction of the Empire?" Ion asked, his eyes wide.
"Exactly. I would love to have my daughter be able to walk the streets of Albion that she loves in safety. Sadly, that cannot be so as long as the Knights continue to terrorize our people."
"Where is your daughter now?" the Earl inquired.
"She currently resides in Buckingham Palace as a handmaiden to the Queen. Her father sees her there from time to time."
"Well, your daughter appears to be a really lucky girl, serving Her Majesty everyday. You must be proud."
"Indeed I am. However... my husband thinks she should be serving in the Military under Colonel Spencer." Their hostess shrugged. "But, that's what she wishes above anything else, so I accept that."
A clock chimed in the background.
"Oh dear, is it that late already? Well... if you are finished with your meal, would you like me to show you two to your rooms?"
Next Chapter: The Tudor Knights
Avert not, thine eyes.
(1) The Fates, were three goddesses of Greek Mythology, who determined the length and course of every life, including the gods. Clotho spun out the thread of destiny; Lachesis measured it to the right length; and Artopos snipped it with her scissors. If one watched Episode XIV, Dietrich himself mentioned them with the quote: "The Fates can play cruel little tricks like that sometimes, can't they?" Considering how Abel, a mortal, has such a long "thread," I bet they can't help but toy with him. :P
(2) Quoted from Nightwish's song, "Nemo." This is an ode to Sith Lady Darth Stitch's story "All I Wish Is To Dream Again" and to Dr. Raven Production's TB video "The Mark of My Sins" on YouTube. I had to make my own homage to that vid, the song wonderfully describes Abel's thoughts and feelings IMHO. It's a really good video, you all should check it out.
(3) Fountain of Neptune, Navona Plaza. It was first created in 1574 (minus the sculptures) by Giacomo Della Porta, who also designed the Moor Fountain, and the project was sponsored by Pope Gregory XIII. The fountain was finally completed in 1878 by Antonio Della Bitta and Gregorio Zappalà. It is still in Rome to this day and many tourists still go to that spot for the sculptural architecture.
(4) Quoted by Napoleon Bonaparte, the French conqueror.
(5) Indirect reference to John 3: 19-21 the original quote was: "... God's light came into the world, but people loved the darkness more than the light, for their actions were evil. All who do evil hate the light and refuse to go near it for fear their sins will be exposed. But those who do what is right come to the light so others can see that they are doing what God wants." NLT version.
A/N: The PLOT thickens! (evil laugh) I had an inkling that you guys wanted a longer chapter... so you got it! I'm sorry I haven't updated in like forever... but this is what happens when one doesn't finish their reports earlier. (facepalms.)
Kudos points go to the one who can spot the Edgar Allen Poe and the Star Wars references (well... the Star Wars one IS kinda obvious.)
Mysteriously Yours,
ObsidianEmpress