Memorias de vampiro libro VI

 

MIST OF DEATH

 

Life is eternal for Cain

Bright shine the crime from his mark

Some secret's known by his name

He taught man handle Gods spark

(Therion, The Mark of Cain)

New York, 2010

 

—Aren’t you excited? –asked Zophiel, while driving to her friend’s antique shop. It was December now, and the whole city was adorned and ready for Christmas: lights, huge Christmas trees, Snowmen and Santa Clauses could be seen everywhere. The streets were full with people wrapped in coats and scarves, carrying big bags with gifts; it was a very cold night, but that made the Toreador extremely happy, she hated hot nights.  

 

Finally, after so many nights waiting for this, the famous member of the Followers of Seth clan, Isis Mubarak, had gave them an appointment to show Hephaistion the fragment of that strange blue metal she had in her collection. Zophiel was sure it was a part of Kaine’s legendary sword. Kaine, who was the first vampire, cursed by God for killing his brother and despised by the angels, condemned to an eternal false life in darkness. It was said that he had a soul-eating sword, forged in the depths of the abyss, and this sword was the only one capable of cutting a path through different dimensions, and the only one that could take Hephaistion to the Real of Stygia to look for Alexander’s soul.

 

This was the only fragment the Macedonian needed to complete the sword, but nobody knew what would happen then. Last time the world had heard from Kaine was before the Great Flood, after that, he had vanished and no one knew where he was or if he still existed. For many young vampires Kaine was just a legend, and for many elders just a memory. But stories about his sword where everywhere around the world, and the Macedonian heard that no one, except for Kaine, could use it.

 

There were many stories about the curse of this sword that many called Kali; it was said that Kali gave great power to its user but asked for a great price to pay in return, slowly and painfully Kali drained the life of its user and, at the end, Kali ate the soul too. 

 

But that is the only way to see him again –said Hephaistion to himself.

 

—I’ll be excited when I saw that this fragment is indeed the one I’m looking for –said the Macedonian very serious. He didn’t like cars and felt uneasy inside one, but he had to admit it was very practical. 

 

—Um…Hephaistion?

 

—Mm?

 

—I was wondering about something –said Zophiel, shyly.

 

—About what?

 

—How did you meet Lucius? –the question made the Macedonian smile.

 

—Well…

 

Rome, 80

 

Hephaistion was sitting on the ground, leaning his weight back on his hands, his legs stretched to the front. He was in front of the Temple of Jupiter Stator, watching the magnificent statues that master Lysippus had made for Alexander 4 Centuries before this night. He used to do that a lot, every time he needed time to think, he went to this place and sat there for hours, watching the faces of all his Companions, riding their horses in the middle of a charge.

 

Well, I don’t have photographs of them, so that was the best thing I had; every time I missed them, or I just wanted to remember how they had looked like, I went there. I was very grateful that this statue survived emperor Nero’s fire and his insane construction program. He destroyed great part of the city to built his decadent palace complex, known as the Domus Aurea. Have you ever heard about it? This palace had a colossal statue of Nero, and believe me, it was as bad as it sounds; but the palace…well, it truly was a monument to luxury and to squander not particularly beautiful if I may add, in the Renaissance, when people found its remains underground, it was catalogued as: grotesque... But I’m changing the subject.

   

He licked his lips, enjoying the metallic and delicious flavor of blood after that night’s meal, and that warmed and inflamed his body. It didn’t matter that he were now 436 years old, he would always enjoy the thrill of the hunt, and the feeling that produced him the hot blood in his mouth. But he never killed his victims if he could, that would also meant killing slowly and smoothly his own humanity, until he was nothing more than a monster control by that powerful and mad force the vampires called: The Beast.

 

Many Tzimisce couldn’t care less about losing their humanity, leaving behind the person they had been in life to become something else; but Hephaistion had strong reasons for not wanting to become a real demon.

 

He was going to bring Alexander back from the Realm of Stygia, and even if he knew he could never be the same man his King had loved so many years ago, he would try everything to preserve whatever he had left from his mortal days.

 

Hephaistion had to admit that he liked to be a vampire; he had always liked learning, traveling, meeting new people and being a witness of the major events that marked history. Being condemned to a false life of darkness and having to live upon the blood of others, was a small price to pay compared to the things he had seen…the only thing he regretted was that he was alone.     

 

Maybe, this is why many vampires want to become monsters –thought the Macedonian, his eyes on Leonnatos’ face—Monsters don’t have hearts and they can’t feel the burden of loneliness.

 

—Who are you?

 

Hephaistion turned slowly and found Lucius standing near him, wearing a simple tunic of wool. This was the first time he saw the Roman, but he had a familiar smell, his blood smell like Anaxagoras’ for some reason. Had this vampire drank from the blood of his Spartan friend in order to obtain his powers? Diablerie, that’s how they called it. No, it didn’t look like this; the vampire in front of him was very young and weak, and his aura wasn’t contaminated by this horrible crime.

 

—Do you know a man named Anaxagoras? –the Macedonian answered with another question.

 

Lucius frowned; he wasn’t used to speak to other vampires, besides his Sire of course. He wasn’t very sociable and was distrustful; since he was a mortal, he didn’t like to attend the aristocracy parties, and as a vampire, he avoided the social meetings of the immortal Prince of Rome: Camilla.  

 

—He is my Sire –answered the Roman at last. 

 

—Ah! –now everything was clear.

 

—You didn’t answer my question –Lucius insisted, and Hephaistion saw how he took his hand to the pommel of his gladius, in a subtle movement that didn’t pass unnoticed for the Macedonian. 

 

—You are very bold, that is dangerous –Hephaistion observed, with a half smile—You can only be bold when you are strong enough to fear no one. How do you know that I’m not an enemy of your Sire and that I’m not looking for a chance to take revenge on him?

 

Lucius clenched his jaw. He hadn’t thought about this and he had to admit that this beautiful stranger had a point.

 

—I’m not as weak as you think, sunshine –he answered defensively.

 

The Macedonian smiled and cocked his head, a long lock of his hair crossed his face.

 

—Don’t worry, I know your Sire because he is my friend –Lucius didn’t know if he could trust him; all his mortal life he had been surrounded by danger, and he knew better than to lower his guard in front of a stranger that looked more than capable of breaking his neck—My name is Hephaistion son of Amyntor.

 

Hephaistion? –the Roman recognized that name. He watched the Macedonian carefully; Hephaistion was too beautiful to be real, and he matched perfectly the description his Sire had made of him long ago, when he told his Child about an ancient vampire he had met in Pella, the old capital of the now forgotten kingdom of Macedonia. 

 

—Anaxagoras told me about you –he said; now relax— I’m Lucius Cornelius Macro –he took a seat at his side.

 

—You are Roman, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t been at the inauguration of the Flavian Amphitheatre? –asked Hephaistion with curiosity—I heard Emperor Titus is going to declare a 100 days of games in honor of his father, the late Emperor Vespasian.

 

Lucius shook his head.

 

—I don’t feel like going…I’m not in the mood.

 

—May I ask why? –Hephaistion had nothing better to do, and Lucius intrigued him.

 

Last time he had heard from Anaxagoras was almost 100 years ago, he had no idea the Spartan had embraced someone…again. If he didn’t recall wrong, Lucius was his friend’s fifth Child. Anaxagoras only embraced strong men, men who would bring glory and honor to his clan, the Ventrue, and until now he had given the true death to all his Children, judging them unworthy. But Lucius was different, he could tell. 

 

—I knew Vespasian…I served under his orders when I was mortal –said the Roman, his green eyes on Lysippus’ master piece.

 

—In Jerusalem?

 

—No, in Britannia.

 

—You are young –Hephaistion observed, if he had served in Britannia, then he was around 60 or 70 years old—Very young, I guess you still have family and friends from your mortal days.

 

That depressed Lucius.

 

—Not quite. My mother died 10 years ago, and …my best friend died yesterday –he said extremely sad. The Macedonian turned to see him, if there was something with what he could feel sympathy, it was with the death of a dear one.

 

—I’m sorry –that was an honest answer.

 

—I was 14 years older than him…and when he died, he looked like an old man and I’m still 35…—said Lucius absently—All the people I knew when I was mortal is dying, and soon I’ll be all alone…–he made a pause—Did you know? I asked my friend if he would want to be like me –that caught Hephaistion’s attention—I wanted to save him …I couldn’t imagine this no life without him…and –a thick blooded tear slid through his cheek—He smiled and refused my offer…  

 

—That is not your fault –said Hephaistion softly. 

 

—I know…–the Roman cleaned the tears with the back of his hand—I know…after all, who would want to be a demon?

 

—Do you truly think we are demons?

 

—I don’t know for sure…I’m not a philosopher, I was a soldier all my life –said Lucius—But, we live in darkness and drink blood from other men, if that doesn’t make us demons, I don’t know what it does.

 

Hephaistion nodded slowly.

 

—You will get use to this no-life –he said—The first years are the hardest ones, after the first 100 years things become easier.

 

—It was easier for you?

 

—No…but my case is special, I missed someone and that is not going to change –said Hephaistion.

 

They fell silent, watching 4 Praetorian guards at the other side of the street with their impeccable black uniform.

 

—When I was a boy –said Lucius with a sad smile—I wanted to be a Praetorian guard.

 

—And instead you joined the Eagles?

 

—I was a Centurion.

 

—Primus Pilus? –asked Hephaistion, showing him what he knew about the Roman army. The Primus Pilus was the first Centurion of the first cohort of a Legion, and it was a very important post.

 

—No…I was still very young to be a Primus Pilus –said the Roman, feeling slightly better—But I always wanted to be one.

 

They fell silent again. The Praetorian guards were shouting orders, and soon were joined by other 4 men.

 

—Anaxagoras told me you are from Macedonia –said Lucius, eager to change the subject. It was too painful for him to talk about his mortal life.

 

—That’s right.

 

- Of what time? The time of Aemillius Paullus? –the Macedonian smiled. This was a funny thing about Romans, they always thought the world moved around them.

 

—Of that time –he said, pointing at the statues in front of them. 

 

—You are fucking kidding me?! –the Roman exclaimed—Wait a second? You are Hephaistion, THE Hephaistion who was with King Alexander –the Macedonian nodded—You are old… 

 

—I told you.

 

—I don’t know much about the story of your King but…you were so close of becoming a Great Empire –said the Roman, now the Macedonian had his complete attention.

 

—I know.

 

—Maybe if Alexander hadn’t died so young, maybe if his son Achilles hadn’t died…

 

—Achilles was my son –Hephaistion corrected him—Aki was Alexander’s adopted son –it had been so long since the last time he talked about his son, and that oppressed his heart—But you are right, if Aki hadn’t died so young he would have become a great emperor.

 

—What happened? I heard he and your King were assassinated –Lucius had never been a scholar, but he knew the basics about history, and like almost all Romans he knew the story of King Alexander III of Macedonia. 

 

—Yes and no –said the Macedonian—Alexander died because of…—he made a pause, he did not know this man and was not going to confide him this. He just shook his head— No, Alexander was not assassinated but Aki was.

 

—By whom? –now Lucius was curious.

 

— A man I thought was my friend –answered Hephaistion, still feeling the same rage that he had experienced the night he heard about his son’s dead—When Alexander died, Aki was 15 years old, almost 16, he was the Crown Prince but he was very young and Perdikkas wanted to become his regent until he was older. Aki was…Aki was brilliant, not in the battlefield like Alexander, but in politics. He knew that, if he let Perdikkas rule in his place, Roxanne would manipulate him and delay everything until her unborn son became of age and could fight for the throne. Perdikkas always had a weakness for beautiful women and Roxanne was very beautiful and manipulative –he made a pause— So, Aki took control of everything and…he married Roxanne, Stateira and Parysatis, his uncle’s widows.

 

—But, he was just a boy! –exclaimed the Roman.

 

—Yes, and it was quite an scandal –Hephaistion smiled, feeling very proud of his son—When Roxanne’s son was born, Aki adopted him, as his heir –he brushed his hair back— Aki could have become our own Caesar Augustus, he started to administrate everything his uncle had conquered, but…when he was 19…this man killed him…and that started the Diadochi Wars…you know the rest. 

 

—What did you do? –asked Lucius.

 

— Nothing –said the Macedonian in a tone of voice that scared the Roman— I did not know who had killed my boy until many years later…

 

—You two! –said one of the Praetorian guards, walking to where they were—You can’t be here. 

 

—Why not? –asked Lucius, in that defiant tone he had used with Hephaistion.

 

—The Emperor is coming this way –answered the guard in a bad mood.

 

The ex Centurion was going to open his mouth to start arguing, but the Macedonian stood up.

 

—Lets go, Macro –he said to Lucius. Since this was the first time they talked and they didn’t knew each other, Hephaistion used his Cognomen, the third name.

 

Lucius gave the Praetorian guard a nasty look that made the man shiver, and follow the Macedonian.

 

—Why do we leave? They are no match for us –he asked, walking at the side of the beautiful Tzimisce.

 

—Didn’t Anaxagoras teach you to stay out of trouble? –Hephaistion smiled—Want to come to my house?

 

—You have a house here? Since when have you been in Rome? –asked Lucius.

 

—Since…I became a Roman citizen –answered the Macedonian, remembering.

 

—Which was when? –the Roman insisted.

 

—After I helped Scipio the Africanus to get his Legions, the VI and VII, from Sicily to Africa –Lucius saw him with eyes wide open.

 

—You knew Scipio the Africanus?

 

—Of course, he gave me the Roman citizenship –Hephaistion was having fun, watching his companion’s expression of complete astonishment—So, technically, I have been Roman for much longer than you. 

 

—And…did you meet the divus Julius?

 

—Yes, you could say I have a weakness for brilliant generals.

 

—You and I are going to have a very long talk –said Lucius.

 

XXX

 

—What an interesting way to start a friendship –said a very impressed Zophiel, arranging her scarf and walking with him to the antique shop.

 

—My friends have never been “normal”, if that is what you mean, not even when I was alive –said Hephaistion, but suddenly the smile left his face and he took her by the arm.

 

—What? –asked the Toreador. She felt a little scared when she saw his serious expression, had something bad happened?

 

—Your friend’s shop is in this block? –asked the Macedonian, all his senses on alert.

 

—Yes, why? –asked Zophiel with apprehension.

 

—I smell blood, a strong smell of vitae.

 

—Vampire blood –the Toreador ran to her friend’s shop, fearing the worst, and when she arrived, she found the crystal door shattered, pieces all over the place, and the strong smell of vitae reached her.

 

She didn’t think it twice and enter the place, calling her friend and fearing the worst watching the destruction around her, then a woman appeared from nowhere scaring her.

 

—Oh my…don’t you ever do that again, Isis –said the Toreador, and her friend laughed.

 

—You are such a coward –said the Follower of Seth, smiling—What are you doing here?

 

Isis Mubarak was a beautiful Egyptian of 120 years old, taller than Zophiel with strong and well shape body. She had short dark red hair and pale gray eyes; and, from what the Toreador had heard, Isis claimed to descend of Cleopatra Selene II, the daughter of Mark Anthony and Cleopatra VII.

 

That made Zophiel smile. What would Hephaistion do if he knew that this woman was descendant of Ptolemy?

 

—I told you I was coming with a friend to see that blue metal fragment –Zophiel reminded her, and Isis lifted her head when she heard someone approaching.

 

And up were her eyebrows in surprise.

 

—This is your friend? –the Toreador turned and saw Hephaistion walking to where they were—Wow! Where did you find this? –she asked, watching him from head to toe.

 

—Long story –said Zophiel—Em…Phai this is my friend Isis Mubarak, member of the Followers of Seth clan, and Isis he is my friend Phai –Isis kept watching the Toreador, waiting for more information—Ah well, he is…em…he is a member of the…Tzimisce clan.

 

—You brought a Tzimisce into my shop?! –shouted Isis, scandalized.

 

—Shush, please, it’s not what it looks like –said Zophiel terrible nervous. She knew this was going to happen, but it was necessary to take Hephaistion here.

 

—What is your Sire going to say? Let me remind you lady that your Sire, is the Prince of the city, the Camarilla Prince! And you are hanging out with a member of the Sabbat, in the middle of a war –the Follower of Seth kept scolding her—Darling this is treason. 

 

—No is not –said Hephaistion with all calm—I’m not a member of the Sabbat, I’m too old for that.

 

—Too… old? –Isis cocked her head, trying to figure out what age did Hephaistion had.

 

—Isis, you are changing the subject, what happened here? –asked Zophiel looking the destroyed furniture and the doors about to fall around them. Her friend shook her head.

 

—I was attacked by a Pack from the Sabbat –she explained, and Hephaistion noticed she was holding a bloodstained gun in her hand—I already called our Sheriff, he must be on his way here. 

 

The vampire sect known as the Camarilla had a very strict hierarchic structure: the Prince was the highest authority in a city, follow by the Seneschal, the Primogeniture, the council of the most elder vampires from each clan, and the Sheriff, the one in charge of the security inside the Camarilla territory. 

 

—You? But you are not part of the Camarilla, you are from an Independent clan –Zophiel didn’t understand what was happening here.

 

New York was in the middle of war between the Camarilla and the Sabbat, but Independent clans had nothing to do with the war, then, why was a member of the Followers of Seth being under attack?

 

—I know, but as things are, they didn’t come after me –said Isis, taking them further inside the shop where many of her ghouls were already cleaning, they could see bullet holes on the walls—They came looking for the blue metal fragment –that caught Hephaistion’s attention—Of course I wasn’t going to sit down and watch how this Pack of savages steal from me, so I fought back with my ghouls –Isis showed then her gun—But they took the fragment.

 

—Where was the fragment? –asked the Macedonian and Isis pointed at the front, a beautiful wooden box with gold and silver on a table. 

 

Hephaistion went to check it.

 

—Zophi, are you out of your mind? –asked Isis in a whisper, taking her by the arm—You can’t be seen with a Tzimisce, no matter how extraordinary good looking he is, your Sire is going to be furious.

 

—I know, but he is going to be furious only if he finds out…please, don’t say a word, I promise I’ll explain everything to you –Isis wasn’t very sure about that but said nothing.

 

Hephaistion used a vampire Discipline known as Auxpex to see the past of the box in front of him, and immediately he felt the strong energy that all the fragments of Kaine sword irradiated.

 

—The fragment I was looking for, was here –he said, returning to the women’s side.

 

—What are we going to do now? –asked Zophiel, and that made the Macedonian smile. “We” this wasn’t her problem but she wanted to help him and that moved him.

 

—I’m going to contact the only person who can help me now.

 

XXX

 

—Azrael?! –asked Zophiel, sitting at Hephaistion’s side on a bench in Central Park—We are waiting for Azrael?

 

—She is my Child, and you told me she is a Templar inside the ranks of the Sabbat, do you have a better idea? –explained the Macedonian.

 

—But this can be dangerous for her –said Zophiel, looking around—Manhattan in under the authority of the Camarilla, is too risky for a member of the Sabbat to enter here.

 

—Clearly you don’t know my Child –said Hephaistion with all confidence.

 

—It has been a while –said a woman’s voice, and when they turned they found Azrael, standing near them with all calm. Zophiel felt a shiver; she truly was everything people said about her, even the plants dried near her.

 

—You haven’t change, but I admit you look stronger –said Hephaistion. It was so strange to look at his Child now, dressed with black leather pants and a dark fitted blouse with a V-neck, and an extremely big sword was on her back. 

 

—Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment…and this? –she asked, her red eyes on Zophiel—Aw! Do you bring me a present? You shouldn’t have.

 

—She is with me –and that ended the Templar’s interest in the Toreador—I called you because a Pack from the Sabbat has a fragment of Kaine’s sword.

 

—I know –said Azrael, changing her weight from one foot to the other—I heard a rumor some nights ago, about a Follower of Seth who had a peculiar blue metal in her hands. I thought it would be part of Kaine’s sword, so I was planning to pay her a visit.

 

—And? –Hephaistion insisted, he had a bad feeling about this.

 

—Apparently, Vikos ordered a Pack to attack this Follower of Seth –Azrael explained, crossing her arms— But I ignore why does she want the fragment.

 

Vikos again, the Macedonian felt his blood burning in rage.

 

—Where is Vikos now?

 

—In Mexico –said Azrael.

 

—Why? –asked Hephaistion.

 

—Apparently she has a…problem with one of the members of the Black Hand –the Templar explained—And, as you know, Mexico city is the bastion of the Black Hand…I suppose you are planning to follow her –the Macedonian nodded—Give 3 night to get more information before you go.

 

—Fine.

 

XXX

 

—Are you going to Mexico city? –asked Zophiel, when Azrael had gone and she regained the ability of speech.

 

—I have to, but I’m not going alone, I’ll call Anaxagoras, Lucius and Eric –said Hephaistion smiling—It has been a while since the last time I saw them. Anaxagoras must be in the U.K., Lucius was in Rome last time I checked, and Eric is in Shreveport, Louisiana, helping the Princess Sophie-Anne as his Sheriff.

 

The Toreador nodded.

 

—And…what are you going to do these 3 nights?

 

—Do you want to keep hearing my story?

 

XXX

 

A/N: Again all the credit about vampire society goes to White Wolf’s Vampire the Masquerade.