Welcome back. Sorry for my hiatus. Enjoy.
Oh! If you were wondering or slightly confused, Markus from Underworld and Marcus from Twilight are one and the same.
8. Running Late
There was little time for preparation. Little time for anything at all. Everything was rushing towards the finish line and falling apart at the same time. Caius sat comfortably on his stone throne waiting for time to pass with a small grin on his face. Lucien was also waiting for time to pass with an apprehensive look on his face and folded piece of paper in his hand. Meanwhile, Sonja paced back and forth in her room hoping a dark hope that the death of her uncle (once removed) would secure peace for the rest of the Coven, even though her own pursuit of happiness would be stifled.
What would make me happy? She thought hopelessly.
I can't have Lucien, even though we lov… no. I can't have Lucien.
A tear tripped out of her eye. Everything was falling apart. She was falling apart, the Coven was on the brink of a possibly uncontainable war and now her enemies were her allies and her family was the enemy.
A sick empty feeling held onto her chest like a lead weight. Her purpose as a Death Dealer had been fulfilling, enough. But now, there was nothing that even resembled a week ago. A week ago, her war was with the Lycans and she would be handing the torch off to Amelia in little less than a decade. Nothing was out of routine, nothing was too wrong, nothing was to be expected. Then this message from Lucien comes out of the blue to meet off Coven grounds. Sonja was amazed at his ability to sneak into her room, leave a message and then disappear without even being detected.
Then "Shaulven" managed to sneak in as well. Sonja would have cared more if her situation wasn't as dire as it was. She had to raise all of them. She had to raise three Elders, including her father.
She knew of his reputation. She knew it firsthand. He was always strict with her. Come to the Council meetings, don't go hunting in the summer (William awoke from his hibernation every summer), she'd done it all. Been the perfect little girl.
But never perfect enough.
She'd tried so hard. She'd given up Death Dealing for Viktor until the Elders began their leap frogging through time, she'd enforced law twice as hard as Viktor; she'd given up herself. And none of it meant anything. Instead of being a major player in this chess game, she was a pawn. A lowly pawn to be disposed of in the minds and hearts of her kind, her friends and even her family. She was nothing.
The tears came freely, everyone of them lessening the lead weight in her breast. The horrid freeing of drowning in her own skin.
This must be what dying feels like… Sonja thought. A sun was being born inside that lead weight and sunlight was flying through her system, burning away everything that she used to be. She always imagined seeing her first sunrise; seeing the delicate pinks and yellows, feeling the gentle rays touch her skin; gradually feeling herself turn to ash.
But the Coven needed an Elder and the only time Sonja might be able to experience that first sunrise was in those few hours when she raised Amelia and Sonja was set back into her own sarcophagus. And those ceremonies were only conducted in the middle of the night so the newly raised Elder was able to have an entire day of rest.
She would never have her sunrise. She would never have her comfort of natural life. She only had the crushing weight in her chest to hold on to. The only static object in her life was the suffocation, the inability to move, the revulsion of herself trapped within her own skin.
Until, no… Dear god, save my… She tried to pray, to cry to some higher power but, only the emptiness answered. Her heavenly father came in the form of the only father figure she had. And he was less than a role model when it came to morality.
Everything was falling apart, so slowly that it seemed that everything was falling into place.
I can't even hold myself together, how have I been running this Coven? Sonja thought through her tears. Where the hell is Esme?
Something had happened to Sonja, some memory that finally released this crippling pain. And maybe it was the hormones coursing through her failing system or the impending Grand Council meeting or…Lucien.
Lucien was there at the beginning and whether he will be at the end is all up to the means for it.
But she had made up her mind. She would raise Amelia, Markus and Viktor, her father. She would finish what Caius had started and hopefully emerge alive.
Sonja picked herself off her bed and ghosted to her window. A whisper of life wafted into her bedroom as the rest humanity slept comfortably with their warm beds and warm hearts. She smelled the night air, feeling it engulf her and hold her; maybe the one thing that would forever be there for her.
Esme had a life; a husband, a son. Even Selene had a purpose; kill any Lycan that dare step in her path. Her father…he was never close, and they never spoke anymore considering he was six-feet under whenever she wasn't.
Why couldn't I be with Lucien? Sonja thought angrily. I'm the Elder now! Once this duel is over, we could be together…
But it was all for not. There was not only a family divide separating them, they were at odds on a cellular level. Sonja knew first hand the pain of exposure to Lycan blood. It was like pouring alcohol onto an open wound. Except the blood ate away any piece of vampire it could, all the way down to bone. And experimenting on diamond vampires was nearly impossible because their skin couldn't be penetrated by anything softer than diamond vampire bone.
It was like a fairy tale gone horribly, horribly wrong. The vampires and the werewolves were the main characters while the humans were the insignificant animals. And any mention of love between the two was worse than heresy; it was against the very fiber of their being. Anyone unfortunate enough to succumb to such a fate would be entirely ostracized from the Coven or The Pack (as the Lycans called themselves).
And Sonja was an Elder. No vampire would even speak her name ever again. She would be entirely stripped from the history books. Only those who remembered her would even know she used to exist.
Turning back from the window was almost symbolically turning her back from freedom. She would be Sonja the Elder, Sonja the Warrior, Sonja the…nearly human. She had never felt this way since she was a small, small child. She felt so helpless. It was like her back was in a corner with no wall to lean on. There was no taking sides. There were only limitless choices.
She could run, be with Lucien, but sacrifice her Coven to Caius. She could fight, turn her back on the man she lov…, but save the Coven, or just run away alone and let the chaos destroy them all.
She had never felt so trapped.
Sonja had felt so good, so confident at the last Council meeting.
What happened? She questioned.
One moment she is finally feeling herself and then… Her life flips upside down.
Viktor…
It was the only answer. Her father.
Maybe I could raise only two of the Elders. Caius has always been an issue; we've dealt with him before…
No. It wouldn't work. It was all or nothing now. And by nothing, there wouldn't even be a Coven. There might not even be immortals.
There had always been immortals. That's why they're immortal. They would and always will be.
But there was always something wrong with the world. Maybe there would be a better world if immortals didn't exist.
"But I don't want to die…" Sonja whispered. She was so tired, so drained and she would have to start the Awakenings tomorrow. She just wanted to fall asleep and somehow wake up in her sarcophagus.
Then something changed. The air was stiffer, the moon was darker and the world was too quiet outside her window.
"God dammit! Leave me alone!" She cried softly enough to not rouse anyone who gave up the search for that elusive Shaulven. It had been too long a day for more people to make any more unwanted visits.
"That's it; I'm going to sleep." She murmured.
Merely glancing over to her boutique, she noticed a single piece of folded paper that was obviously not there before.
Curious but not necessarily surprised, Sonja walked over to the boutique, slid the paper into her open palm and carefully opened it. The handwriting was thick and almost scrawled.
In case my messenger was unable to deliver my invitation, I give unto you a second copy that, hopefully, will reach its intended.
I must speak with you again. My informants have recently acquired intelligence that might be of use to you.
Please accept my request and come to our previous meeting grounds the day after tomorrow.
Lucien
Sonja's heart fluttered. That stupid Lycan. He sent Shaulven (or who ever he really was) into the lair of the beast just to get to me.
Suddenly, the lead weight inside her was a bird soaring to that fabled sunrise. A huge smile plastered itself onto Sonja's face.
"Lucien…" She whispered.
"What is with you and that dog?" A voice suddenly spat behind her.
Sonja gasped as she twirled around to face her intruder. An enraged Selene greeted her.
"If you weren't an Elder, I'd raise Viktor myself and show him what you've become." Her voice was soaked in acid.
All the blood in Sonja's face drained away.
"You wouldn't." Sonja stammered, hardly comprehending that she would have to raise him anyways.
"I don't think you should have a say in what I will and won't do anymore…" Selene finished with a betrayed look on her face. That bird in place of Sonja's lead weight caught on dreadful fire from a burning sun and returned to its previous form as a burden to whoever carried it.
Several uneasy minutes passed between them. Selene's face growing colder and colder with each tear that silently fell down Sonja's weary face.
"I remember the days when you were the fiercest warrior there was. Faster, stronger and better with a blade than any of us. And you still are. But now you probably wouldn't even lay a finger on your precious Lycans."
Sonja's lead weight was becoming physically painful. Her arms tugged at the rest of her once sturdy frame. Her eyes burnt from the tears and now this. She was already made a mockery of by a once close friend. A sister even.
"Sister…"
"Don't even think of calling me that anymore! You are not even worthy to be an Elder, much less my sister." Selene spat. You could see the pain in both of their eyes.
"What can I be then?! Do you understand what is happening! This is not just about the Lycans anymore. We are dealing with those who understand us better than ourselves! They know how we work, how we move, how we plan and even how we think! Now I have to either offer a hand of allegiance to those "precious Lycans" or we can all drown in each other's blood. Now who or what should I be?
"This is not about being solely a warrior; this is about being a leader. And I will not be mocked by someone who does not understand that!"
Sonja could hardly hold her head up after letting all that out. She was so tired of everything.
Selene couldn't hold her head up either. Sonja had a point. Selene was only a foot soldier, a damn good one, but a foot soldier none the less.
"So what are you going to do now?" Selene asked, greatly subdued.
"Raise the Elders."
"Has the Council agreed?"
"Yes…" Sonja finished, completely spent.
"What an awful day." Selene commented.
"Terrible."
And at that, Selene walked out of Sonja's room, shutting the door behind her carefully.
Sonja collapsed onto her bedspread, falling asleep before she even hit the sheets.
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Her alarm almost woke her up. Sonja was very comfortable in her nest of tangled blankets and was just going to laze the day away. Then Esme got her out of bed, again.
"Sonja! It's nearly eight! You've got to be downstairs in an hour!"
That woke Sonja up.
"What?" She gasped.
"You said you would raise the Elders! Come on! You've got to start early since there are three of them this year." Esme was always too happy in the evening since she never had to sleep anyways.
But she was right. Sonja had to raise three Elders, not just the usual one.
Groggily, Sonja was just going to roll out of bed like she usually did. But her foot caught on some of the sheets and sent her usually graceful maneuver straight into the floor.
"Sonja, that floor is fast becoming your best friend. Come on; let's get you ready for the big day."
Inside, her stomach was twisting, turning and training to be Olympic gymnast.
What have I agreed to do? Sonja was having severe cold feet. Any moment now they would freeze to her floor.
Despair was engulfing Sonja. But she had no choice. She had to save the Coven, she had to do this, and it was the right thing to do.
I think… She thought, dreading staying awake for one more moment.
Esme could easily see Sonja's black turmoil as easily as she could the moon slowly rising, beckoning the vampires to wake. Carefully moving towards the motionless Sonja, Esme put her hands on Sonja's drooped shoulders.
"It's okay. I'll help you through this, my child."
Sonja's eyes widened tenfold. Memories of her father surged through her. She could hear his smooth voice as if he were already raised.
"My child, come. We have a war to win…" He spoke with a fiendish grin, holding his hand out to her. The very ground he stood upon was soaked with Lycan blood. And she took his hand. She took everything he gave her; love, power and lies.
He said those words nearly a thousand years ago and they were still at "war". Now an even more dangerous war was about to be unleashed. And all he could really give her were lies. Sonja was sure he loved her, but it was…incomplete. It always felt like something was missing. Like she was just another chess piece; maybe a bishop or a rook, but nothing that couldn't be sacrificed.
Sonja turned to Esme, pain pouring out of her eyes. Esme stared gaping at a sight she thought she would never see. Sonja never showed this side of herself, it was buried so deeply within her, it would take something life changing to dredge it out.
And something had. God knows what did. One of the most probable culprits was Lucien; however, Viktor was always a candidate. Viktor would always be a candidate, even if he never rose again.
"Don't make me do this Esme…" Sonja pleaded, not even talking directly to Esme.
Esme just stared at what Sonja had become.
The strong, yet tyrannical, Sonja had been reduced to that scared little child again.
Was that a good thing? She might be on the path to finding herself, but… Does it need to be this drastic? Esme couldn't believe what her eyes were showing her.
Sonja couldn't either. She'd actually rendered Esme speechless. But Esme recovered quickly.
"Sonja, this is the right thing to do. But you don't need to raise them all yourself. Maybe Markus would be willing to raise him for you?" She tried to reason.
Sonja knew this was the best course of action, even though it was only delaying the inevitable.
Doubts and fears about her father still twirled around her, making her lightheaded.
Why am I so hesitant to raise my own father? Don't I love him?
Sonja knew every answer to her every question. But even in her own head, she refused to listen to any of them. In the end, ignorance was bliss. Or just a small taste of what bliss might be.
Totally animated, Sonja went through her morning routine of showering, changing and a little syringe of blood for breakfast/dinner. Her thoughts were centered around trivial things; how wrinkled her clothes were, was there a new chip in the woodwork?, how the color of her burgundy coat accented her very pale skin. Small, meaningless thoughts.
But they quickly returned to the task at hand. Especially when her hand touched the cold metal of her bedroom door. Cold like the feeling of slowly dying every time she stepped into that velvet lined coffin.
"Thank you, Esme. I'll raise Amelia, then Markus. Hopefully, he'll raise Father…" Sonja's voice faded away into nothingness as she made her way down to the Chamber of Elders. Esme dutifully followed her adoptive daughter as she made her way further and further into the catacombs leading to the chamber.
Esme found it fascinating how every step Sonja took, her back looked straighter, her head was held higher, her shoulders slumped less and how her stoic mask was etched deeper and deeper into her face. The act she had put on all these years wasn't an act anymore; it was the default for her every action. It was as if her true self was always held on hold and now she couldn't even find who she used to be.
By the time they had reached the Chambers, Sonja was seemingly back to normal and perfectly fit to raise Amelia.
Sonja took every cold step to Amelia's sarcophagus with an once of dread. Everything she did was all leading to her less then eager reunion with her somewhat-estranged father. But she couldn't have all these muddled thoughts in her head when she preformed the ritual of Awakening. Her thoughts needed to be ordered and sequential. Now there was only a jumbled mess where her mind used to reside. The past few days bled together like a water color painting in dark monotone, speckled with bright little glimpses of happiness and even…love.
One step closer, two step, three, closer…
Then she was there. Sonja stood looking down at the metal A in the floor. Kneeling down (closer) she reached out and pulled at the middle line of A, setting off a series of contraptions that would ultimately bring the sarcophagus to the surface (so close).
Sonja closed her eyes. She forced the tsunami of doubts and emotions down inside her, hoping it would stay controlled for as long as it could.
Finally, Amelia's sarcophagus appeared out of the earth, a cold marble earth, and Sonja couldn't wait for this to be over.
Sonja pried the sarcophagus open and stared into the preserved face of another one of her foster mothers.
She sighed as she brought her wrist up to her mouth. Sonja didn't dare let her vampire out; her limited tranquility might actually break if she even tried. She broke the skin using brute force, trying her, but it was easier to control her pain to focus on the temporary physical side of it then the inconsolable emotional side of it.
She felt the iron rich blood flow into her mouth. Usually, Sonja would have the smallest experience of euphoria whenever blood hit her tongue; but not today. Today it tasted like smoke from the fire of a burning body and the bittersweet taste of death.
So she let it flow into the mouth of someone who might actually appreciate the gift of stolen life.
The blood was like a soothing salve to Amelia's long parched throat. It wasn't as sweet as it usually was, but it was fuller…better for some reason. Amelia really just wanted to sleep for a while longer but she had a duty as an Elder to fulfill.
Sonja waited for Amelia's pitch-black, starved eyes to open so she could fill them with all that had happened in the past century. She waited while her currently safe sea of calmness churned and chopped.
Then the demonic eyes, the true vampire ones, the ones that were too tired to cover up what they really were, opened.
Sonja nearly sighed in relief. Instead she took Amelia's face into her hands and concentrated on those midnight eyes. Concentrated on filling them with everything they needed to know.
Amelia waited for Sonja's update. It was taking longer than it usually did. That severely unnerved Amelia; Sonja never faltered, never doubted herself, never had that look in her eyes.
Then, slowly, a stream of memories and thoughts shaped themselves into trains and flowed like they should.
There was a quick walkthrough of the last ninety years then more explicit memories formulated and solidified.
Amelia could smell a damp, musty smell. She could see a dark room with moonlight as the only light source streaming from a window. Or was that just a hole in the wall?
What are these memories? What happened to Sonja? Amelia kept becoming more and more perturbed by Sonja's strange Awakening.
Then there was a man. And fear?
Sonja was afraid? Amelia did not like this.
Then the memory skipped forward.
"Can I trust you, Lucien?" Sonja asked, not needing an answer.
Lucien!? WHAT IS GOING ON?!! Amelia screamed inside her head, knowing it was far too early to attempt speech.
Then Lucien lunged, grabbing her arm.
"No! You don't understand! Caius wants to overthrow the Coven!" Lucien sounded just as scared as Amelia or Sonja was.
Oh, god… Amelia thought darkly, loosing her reason to live.
Then the thoughts changed memories.
"So what are you going to do now?" Selene asked.
"Raise the Elders."
"Has the Council agreed?"
"Yes…" Sonja finished.
"What an awful day." Selene commented.
"Terrible."
And with that, all the memories faded away. Sonja withdrew her hands from Amelia's face and started preparing the blood bags for Amelia.
Amelia waited for days, hours, years, seconds…it didn't matter anymore. Caius got what he wanted. He always got what he wanted.
He got rid of me… Amelia reminisced.
But before Amelia could dredge up anymore memories about the Diamond Prince, Sonja was back and lifting her out of her sarcophagus. Amelia tried to stand on her own but felt a horrible weakness throughout her entire body. She had slept for a long time and right now she needed blood.
A mixture of gratitude and disgust ran through her system as Sonja inserted the IV's into her arms, back and sides. She immediately felt better; the blood was rejuvenating her emaciated body and restoring her vampire senses.
But when Sonja put Amelia's cloak on to cover her, memories she had ignored during the Awakening resurfaced.
There was so much…pain…?
Pain? Amelia really wanted to return to her sarcophagus and wake up and find that this was just a strange coma dream.
Never had Sonja doubted herself, never had Amelia experienced so much from an Awakening, never had both Esme and Amelia been so worried about Sonja.
Amelia had never had a daughter and Sonja never had a mother. So they filled the gaps in each other's lives and they never looked back.
"I'll come back tomorrow to check on you and answer any of your questions." Sonja stated as she headed out the Chamber.
Both women watched their adopted daughter glide out of sight.
"Even the way she walks has changed…" Esme commented.
Amelia felt the blood course through her reanimated veins and decided to try talking.
"What happened?" Amelia asked in the hoarsest voice ever heard.
"She grew up… our little girl…" Esme whispered to the very core of the earth.
Amelia was worse than worried. She was scared. She and Esme were the closest thing Sonja had to family, and they couldn't do a thing. They felt so helpless.
Even the way she moved was different, like there was nothing where her heart once was.
Esme was suddenly concerned that Sonja might fade into nothingness herself.
Oh, Quina, I've decided that you do fail. You totally should have joined Marching Band. Now you'll just be a band dropout that never got to experience the complete nerdiness of marching while playing a saxaflute. =)
P.S. We get to play Sweet Caroline!
