Chapter Twenty-Two

Soiled Slate/Coming Clean

The days flew by seamlessly. Darren's training continued as scheduled, his daily visits to the Hall of Games to train with the, now blind, Vanez Blaine kept him mostly entertained, and very busy, so he still hadn't found time to talk to Mika. Or look at Mika. Or even hear about Mika, because Mika was never around. He wasn't showing up in the Hall of Princes. He rarely made appearances during the war discussions, and sent messages to generals in his stead. Many believed him to be in the throes of passion with his latest conquest (Which Darren couldn't quite understand, the man was covered in frown lines, even his frown lines looked like frowns! How was that at all attractive?) But because of his reputation, nobody bothered to check on him. The Vampire Prince could take care of himself.

Darren wanted to believe this as well, even despite his vow to help his colleague, but when he saw the matching frowns on his fellow Prince's faces one evening, he wondered whether he should take some immediate action. It had been a little over two weeks since his conversation with Harkat and Mr. Crepsley, the accidental discovery of the depressing letter, and Mika's frustrated demand that Darren forget about the entire thing, something he knew he could not do.

As he and his mentor approached the thrones of his fellow Prince's, Darren began to frown as well.

"Ah, Master Shan, welcome back!" the elderly Paris Skyle smiled at him, gesturing to the stone seat next to him.

Darren sat while Mr. Crepsley moved to stand beside him. "Any changes sire?" asked the orange-haired vampire.

Paris chuckled. "It's been the same for weeks now, Larten. You know that."

"Hmph. Troops go out, kill a few, come back and say they were just 'stragglers' acting alone." Arrows frown deepened. "I don't like it."

Darren frowned as well. "Why do I feel like… well," they all looked at him expectantly. "Like we're being toyed with?"

A low growl came from Arrows chest and Paris cast his eyes downward in contemplation.

"Toyed with indeed!" the bald Prince growled. His fists clenched at the hard, stone arms of his throne. "If those bastards think they can run us in circles… and out of fear…!"

"No, my friend, not fear." Paris responded calmly. "I don't think there is a single Vampire among us that is truly scared of anything other than… what we do not know." The group fell silent, their faces grim. Darren glanced between them, his mentor and his fellow Princes, and then glanced at the empty seat on the other side of Arrow, to his left, where Mika ver Leth normally took the grim-faced stance on things. What was this war doing to all of them?

The hall itself was bustling with the noise of Generals, shouting information and pleasantries on everything from the war with the Vampaneze, to gossip about the AWOL prince. Mika was the leader of all things tactical, and without him to browse over maps and battle plans, without his strategic mind, the Generals working that side of the planning were no better than headless chickens, hurrying around and squawking about needing the latest troop movements (as if anyone but Arrow, Mika and the Generals referred to the Vampires outside of the mountain as 'troops') and why hadn't they been updated about the climate in the west. Darren was not the only Prince to notice this. As his gaze roved the crowded room before him, Arrow sighed heavily.

"It's a circus in here."

Paris nodded in agreement. "I suppose no one is nearly as scared of us as they are of our fellow Mika."

Mr. Crepsley and Darren exchanged a glance. The younger didn't need say anything, but look defiant in order for that glance to turn into a glare.

"I have tried speaking with him," Paris continued. "But whatever is troubling him is a very personal affair, and he refused more than the lightest conversation about it."

"I, too, have had words with him of a personal nature." Arrow murmured. The others looked at him questioningly. "He asked me once, if I ever thought about my wife."

Darren winced. Arrows wife had been murdered by a Vampaneze who had come looking for a fight with him before he'd become a Prince. The Vampire had never fully recovered and now harbored the worst, most unhealthy, bloodthirsty hatred for their purple-skinned cousins.

Paris sighed deeply. "Unexpected, and yet unsurprising. I knew it was about a woman." He said sadly.

Her name flashed within Darren's mind. His eyes cast downward.

The letters on the dirty parchment.

"My dearest Juliet,"

"What did you say, Darren?"

The young Prince snapped out of his thoughts, all eyes were on him.

Darren paled and coughed. "Well… it's just something I found in Mika's chambers whenever we were looking for something…"

Arrow's gaze intensified, and Paris looked worried. "What was it?" the bald Vampire demanded.

"A… uhm. A letter. A really old one too." Darren glanced at Mr. Crepsley, who merely sighed dejectedly. "It was addressed to 'My dearest Juliet'."

"Oh my…"

Now it was Paris' turn to be stared at. The elderly Vampire sighed heavily, his expression pained. "There was a point in time… quite a few years ago, but I suppose for one as young as our dear Mika it would be fresh within his mind-"

"Sire…" Arrow sighed.

"Yes, yes, of course. Who is this 'Juliet'," he smiled. "I went to visit Mika one day many years ago when he was still a wayward general, enjoying his time away from the mountain.

I had put him up for investiture years earlier, and he had vehemently declined."

Darren frowned, "Mika ver Leth didn't want to be a Prince?"

Paris chuckled. "Not many want to follow in their father's footsteps."

"Father!?"

Arrow laughed out loud and Larten and Paris shared a knowing smile. "Mika's 'maker', if you would," the orange-haired vampire said. "Was the previous Prince who held his throne."

Darren stared disbelieving at the three older men. "And you decided he should inherit the seat?" he frowned at Paris.

"No! No, of course not! Mika's predecessor was an amazingly strict leader, and mentor."

"That explains a lot." Darren mumbled.

Paris smirked. "Yes, but it also helped bolster Mika's need for freedom. That is why after his maker died he left the mountain. Even after I initiated his investiture. Mika was an amazing General, an even more honourable vampire, and even gave Larten here a run for his money more than once in physical competition and affairs of the heart."

Mr. Crepsley blushed fiercely and let out a harsh 'hrm'. "He left and said he would never come back. Something about being tired of war. I will not say I was not a little bit happy to have him away from… her."

Darren cast his mentor a sideways glance, which made the elder Vampire redden even deeper. They half-vampire vowed to get him to spill the beans as soon as he had finished dealing with Mika.

"Ohoho, indeed Larten, and then you disappeared as well!" Paris laughed. "Ah but back on to Mika… as you all know I cannot take no for an answer, so a few months before council and the inevitable investiture that was to come, I tracked him down to a small town in Romania. And my was I surprised! I spent a few weeks watching him before I finally confronted him… He was cozied up with the sweetest girl." A large smile spread over his face as he recounted watching Mika and the lady he had lived with before becoming a Vampire Prince. "She was lovely, and I have seen quite a few lovelies in all my nights! Petite and curvy in all the right places, I'll admit if I was a few centuries younger…"

Darren coughed awkwardly.

"But I digress… I could tell he'd been there for weeks, and I watched their lives daily. I would have sworn they were married by the looks of them. Like giddy newlyweds. I saw Mika Ver Leth smile more times in those few weeks than in the past fifty years."

Darren tried to hide his smirk. He pictured the elderly Vampire peering through bushes at the couple. Just how long is fifty years for a man over eight hundred years old…?

"Was she Juliet?" Arrow questioned, interrupting Darren's thoughts.

Paris nodded. "I believe she was. I overheard them talking on quite a few occasion; including a few things that made me blush despite all my years!" He chuckled.

"You spoke to him, then?" Larten asked.

"I did. I encountered him in the field outside of their home one night, he had been speaking with the strangest woman and I caught him by surprise. I told him my feelings about his refusal to become a Prince, and gave him the chance to return and take his place. I told him to either come to council and accept or stay away and forfeit the opportunity."

Darren leaned forward in his seat. "And?"

Paris shrugged. "He outright refused. Again." The Prince looked as irritated as if it had just happened.

"So he stayed with her? But then why-?"

"Actually, it wasn't even three months later that he came to council that year and accepted his investiture. Never said why. And honestly, I never asked."

"I just don't understand… that letter…" Darren frowned, completely unsure of what to think. "Juliet was the most important thing in the world to him."

Arrow slapped the boy on the back and cleared his throat. "Sometimes it is better not to know, Darren."

There was enough finality in his words to make the other three relax into their chairs in disappointment. The Generals in the hall took that moment to come up and ask numerous questions and opinions. Darren sighed and set to work, keeping mind to listen to the instructions of his fellow Princes. The gossip had almost made them all forget that there was a war going on, but alas some things cannot be so easily tucked away like an old memory.

The mystery of Mika and Juliet still hung deeply in his mind, and Darren decided that even though he barely knew more now than he had in the beginning, at the very least he now had somewhere to start. Some information was better than none.

And now he had confidence enough to brave the storm that was Mika Ver Leth.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

She was everywhere, Juliet. Her laughter echoed throughout the halls as he tried to track her down. He saw her face in the crowd whenever he went to dine. She would sip her bat broth elegantly and laugh at the advances of the strange men around her. Her glowing eyes pierced the darkness of the deeper caverns on scouting trips, sending chills down his spine as she guided him on impossible journeys throughout the mountain. Her hands caressed his body when he bathed, and with deep shame he allowed them to massage away whatever sanity was left within him, and give him a taste of what it was like to be with her once again.

By all the Gods he was going mad.

Mika hadn't kept track of anything going on outside of his chambers. He sent couriers away with half-assed information and suggestions. To one General he had simply said 'go the hell away'. He made excuses to keep away from others. Excuses to remove himself from socializing, ruling, eating, drinking…

Living.

It was early morning; he could feel it in his bones as he sat on the edge of his large bed, staring blankly at the wall opposite him. How long had it been since he'd eaten? Since he'd stepped outside of his chambers? Everything blurred together.

Days, weeks, months?

Can't have been that long.

But who's to say? Time could have stopped for all he knew.

There was a knock outside the room that jarred the Prince from his inner argument.

"Mika?"

Mika looked around in vain for the source of the voice. It was a sad day indeed when a vampire lost his night vision. Fortunately for him, his guest let himself inside.

"I thought I would find you here," Larten sighed, strolling into the dark room uninvited. Finally Mika's eyes adjusted and he squinted haphazardly at the older Vampire.

"And you look terrible." The red clad Vampire sighed again shaking his head at his ruler.

Mika's black silk shirt was buttoned incorrectly, making it sit awkwardly on his broad shoulders. His cotton pants were wrinkled and dirty, as if he had been sleeping curled in a ball on the ground (which he had indeed, and Larten knew this as soon as he thought it). His hair, which had grown down to sweep past his shoulders, and was mussed and tousled every which-way. This in itself was strange to see on the Prince, who normally cut and slicked back his hair in a very professional manner, anything else he had deemed 'unseemly' and 'unbefitting of one in his position' (which was hilarious considering his elder Prince, Paris Skyle wore his long gray hair down to his waist and it looked as if he hadn't run a brush through it since the war of 1812), and his bare feet were black with caked on dirt.

Larten crouched in front of his Prince, eyebrows creased in concern. "When was the last time you bathed?"

Mika tried to speak, but found his throat dry and irritated from disuse. He coughed and cleared it. "I haven't the slightest idea."

"Sire. You're filthy. Your chambers…" Larten let his eyes rove the blackened room. Mika usually had dozens of candles lit to light the pages of whatever information he was combing over. His beautiful desk had been broken and splintered in two after Darren's discovery, and since then it seemed Mika had made a game of breaking his own belongings. The bookshelf he had carved into the stone walls with his own bare hands had been destroyed, the writings strewn about the floor like snow. His small dresser that had stored whatever clothing he felt he should maintain himself had been knocked over and all of its contents were spilled from it, many looked to have been ripped to shreds.

Larten couldn't bear to look any longer. "Mika."

The entire time Mika had been sitting exactly as he had been found, staring listlessly at the wall. His eyes glazed over in imagination.

"What are you thinking about?"

He blinked once, but didn't respond.

"Is it Juliet?"

At the name, Mika's body shook uncontrollably, and he swung a fist at Larten. Luckily, the elder Vampire expected as much and dodged out of the way with ease. Mika's aim was terribly off.

"Don't say her name!" he growled, falling on the ground from the momentum of his missed swing. His eyes were crazed and furious. "You can't say her name. I can't say her name! Don't deserve to say it."

"And why not? Did you kill her?"

Something inside the raven-haired Prince snapped. The accusation set his blood to boiling.

"NO! NEVER!" Mika sobbed, crawling vehemently over to where Larten stood so that he could try, in vain, to hit him again. Immediately the red clad Vampire stepped out of his range. "I would never touch a hair on her head, you ignorant cur! I couldn't harm her; I would never let ANYONE harm her! I left her I left her to keep from hurting her! Never hurt her. Never! I… I- I-"

"Loved her?"

Silence.

Mika stopped his crawling struggle and shook himself.

Yes.

Yes he loved Juliet, more than anyone dare love anything, and he didn't know why he had loved her so strongly. He had loved and lost before. He was nearly ageless, after all. And she wasn't. She was so fragile. That's why he left her, he was hurting her by being near her, and she… she deserved so much more that a surly Vampire who brought violence and death into her home. Something inside of him just knew that Juliet was worthy of the greatest love he could give.

Juliet.

She felt right. The right one.

The one.

By all the gods she was the one. The only one.

He sobbed openly now. His tears fat and full of so much lost emotion. Why now, why on the verge of an all-out war with their blood cousins would her ghost haunt him. Pointing out his failures. Or at least the only one that mattered.

Her.

He left her because he was afraid to lose her the conventional way, of old age. He hadn't known what he would do if she died, sick and afraid in his arms, he small body so frail and tired that all she could do was look at him with lost eyes and wonder why. Why would he be young while she died? He was afraid she would become disgusted with him, for what he was, a near-deathless monster that preyed on the weak during the night.

How foolish he had been.

Of course Juliet could accept him and his Vampirism. She asked no more than him to accept her and her mysteries in return. All she had wanted was his companionship and his love.

And she died thinking that she had neither. And that was his greatest failure.

Time passed slowly as the normally stoic and intimidating Vampire Prince cried out his anguish. It was hours before his companion moved closer to him. As his large body shook on the ground, convulsing from the broken dam of tears that streamed along the sides of his face, Larten crouched next to him in consolation.

"Do you remember when we were young, and the two of us quarreled over Arra?"

His voice hitched on her name and Mika tried in vain to even out his breathing in order to respond. Larten never spoke about Arra Sails anymore, not since her untimely death during the purging of the hidden Vampaneze from the mountain. Mika knew how hard saying this must be for the elder Vampire.

"We fought day and night over who had the right to court her, and she thought us both idiotic for our efforts. We made up silly challenges for each other, feats incredible and incredibly stupid to see who was more brave, who was the better warrior, who was the better man."

Mika stared at the floor in silence, his tears stopped.

"Remember when, in the end, she told you that she couldn't see herself by your side?" he smiled and rubbed his long scar idly, "I remember thinking to myself 'there goes the only woman who will ever give Mika ver Leth a second glance' and 'what a poor man!', but it seems I was wrong, and you did find another. I am happy that you did; that you were able to experience the feelings that I was able to have for Arra.

"I never stopped to think if I would ever lose her." His eyes fell to where Mika sat, hunched and shivering on the stone.

"The loss you feel, the loss I feel," for the first time since they Larten had entered the room, their eyes met and each man saw within the other their own sadness and pain. But what Mika encountered in Larten's eyes was a willingness to move past the pain. The strength to remember that the woman he'd lost wasn't gone forever and that one day, without a doubt, he would see her again. Something Mika hadn't even considered.

"It doesn't get any easier," Mika grumbled in response to Lartens open-ended question. He slowly stood and brushed out his clothing, embarrassed. His eyes were red and swollen from his needless crying. It may hide, buried beneath loyalty and duty for years upon years, he thought sourly, but it doesn't get any easier.

Juliet was gone. The love of his life, dead, and the only thing he could do is continue living. Larten had made him realize that. So easily had the older man broken him, because he knew exactly why he hurt, and he knew exactly how to force him to heal.

"Thank you, Larten."

The scarred Vampire nodded graciously, and turned to take his leave. No further words were needed between the two tortured souls. Each bore the same pain or loss, and each would eventually learn to deal with it.

"Sire?"

Mika turned to see Larten standing just before the doorway.

"Why did you leave her?"

Mika chuckled and cleared his throat. "For some foolish thing called 'honor'. I thought… it would be better if I left."

"Was it?"

Mika gestured humorlessly at his decimated room.

"Do you think she was happier?"

Quietly, the Prince sat upon his bed, "I think, were she still alive, she would never forgive me for breaking her heart and her trust the way that I did."

"And if you had stayed, sire?"

Mika's eyes looked up, as if for guidance. "What matters is that I didn't."

Larten didn't ask anything else. He sensed a tragic emotion in Mika's voice that sent him walking briskly out of the Prince's chambers and straight to bed.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Darren stood outside of Mika ver Leth's chambers and listened to the last few moments between his fellow Prince and his Vampire maker. As he watched Mr. Crepsley rush from the room, Darren questioned his motives for even considering entering.

But that didn't stop him from doing it.

There was no knock this time, and Mika found himself rudely shaken out of his reverie as Darren loudly cleared his throat inside his chambers.

"Shan, what do you want?"

Darren nearly jumped at the familiar snap in Mika's voice. He'd sounded so broken talking to Mr. Crepsley, that he had been hoping to encounter the same thing.

"I thought we could talk. You haven't been around lately…"

Mika snorted and Darren frowned. "Has it been that obvious? I always imagined things would fall a part without me there to strike fear into the hearts of the Generals." He stood and went over to his collapsed dresser, hefting it up and slowly sorting the clothing back into it.

"Actually I think you not being there has left them scared enough."

Mika stopped sorting. "Pardon?"

Darren narrowed his eyes. "You know Mika, I always admired you, and even though you've been nothing but cold and rude to me." He cast his young eyes down and walked over to his elder. "I never doubted that everything you did was for my own good. Trying to make me strong, make me into a better Vampire, and a better person even."

He stood right next to Mika.

"I don't understand… why you'd hurt yourself so much."

The raven-haired vampire blinked back fresh tears as he gazed down at Darren. The boy had been through much in the past years. His hair still hadn't grown back from his trial by fire, and he had a small network of scars covering his body from the Path of Needles, both trials cast upon him by Mika ver Leth in order to test his worthiness. He would have killed the boy without a second thought had he failed, which he had, but Darren proved a valuable ally and an honorable Vampire in the end. Yet still, Mika could not openly admit that he liked the boy; that he wasn't half bad at ruling, even if he made choices from his gut; and that he enjoyed his company and his naïveté and his open heart.

The same open heart that set the boy to comforting him even if he knew he didn't deserve it.

"Perhaps," he began, clearing his throat which threatened to close up with emotion, "you'll understand one day when you've lived your life to adulthood."

Darren looked at him with large, brown eyes full of innocence. "Mika, you want to know what I think?"

Silence.

"I think if you truly loved Juliet, and you believe she truly loved you, that no matter how betrayed she'd feel, she would still want you to be happy."

A sigh. "Why do you think that, Darren?"

Darren shrugged and smiled his natural lopsided smile. "Because that's what love is. Even when someone does something terrible and maybe even unforgivable, if you love them you can always find room in your heart to give them another chance."

When Mika didn't respond, Darren sighed sadly. He quietly walked towards the exit.

"Master Shan."

Darren stopped and turned. Mika was looking at him, his jet black eyes boring straight into Darren's and piercing his soul with a sadness the young Vampire hadn't lived long enough to truly understand. A single tear slid down his cheek.

"Yes Mika?"

"How did you become so wise?"

Darren smiled and shook his bald head. "Well when you've lived as a teenager for too long, you think about love and the way it's supposed to be," his mind drifted to Debbie Hemlock, and the last time he'd seen her sleeping on her bed Christmas Eve. "I guess I just know what I want love to be like."

Mika nodded and waved his hand for Darren to leave.

"Oh and Mika?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I read the letter,"

Mika sighed. "It's alright."

"Yeah, it is alright, because you can't keep things like that buried forever." He stared poigniantly at Mika. "They'll eat you up."

The elder Prince nodded, shaking away the last of his doubt. "I will see you in the hall tomorrow Darren. Come prepared, I've much to teach and we've already lost so much time."

Darren nodded happily. "Tomorrow, then!"

"Yes, tomorrow."

As the young man walked out of the room, Mika sighed and sank into his bed. Perhaps they were all right. He would need to learn to live with his mistake, and take solace in the fact that he had known Juliet and loved her when he had. A small smile crept at the corners of his lips as his eyes slid closed.

But even with this comforting thought, and the consolations of Darren Shan and Larten Crepsley, Mika ver Leth could not shake the dread that ate away at his heart. And as he drifted off to sleep a quiet melody wafted through the halls of Vampire Mountain and straight into his ears.

Somewhere, somehow, he heard someone laugh wickedly.

And he knew it was for him.