Title: Dark Roots
Author: Ageless Light
Beta-ed by: The Other Half of Ageless Light is assisting me. If anyone is interested in Beta-ing please PM me. I'd like one!
Summary: A simple act unearthed a powerful secret and led to the shocking discovery that they were not the only enclave of surviving Carpathians in the world.
Rating: T (Contains content suitable for teens and older)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark Series Universe or any of Christine Feehan's characters. I merely play around with other people's work! I do own the OC's though. I went to babynamesDOTcom for my character names.
Category Type: Continuous
Spoilers: Up to and including, Dark Predator.
Created on: May 29,th 2012
Word Count: 1,713 (Total: 5,882 )
"Talk" – regular talking
Talk- Inner thoughts/ Flashbacks
"Talk"- Speaking telepathically
A/N:For those of you who reviewed and encouraged me to keep going, this is written and dedicated to you!
I never had a destination in mind just a hope of discovering who I am. Where I was never mattered to me, for I picked places at random. As I had no expectations, each experience with the changing world was educational. Each sunset was new life. For decades I kept this stack of bound parchment ready to record my journey. I had no wish to record the places I went or the people I met, for the only journey that needed to be recorded was the one in which my heart and soul grew. Days of wandering aimlessly, or sleeping in the wilderness, was not needed. At first I did not record the first time I saw the sea, nor did I record the first time I was able to drink the lifeblood of a person that I was able to enchant. I never wrote about the times I realized being a beautiful unescorted women attracted dangerous attention. But slowly, looking back I realized that every moment I was changing, that time was breaking me down into a person that was no longer Narcissa. Who stands in my place I still do not know.
At first I tried to remain alone, it was better this way. I believe I am cursed. However, I watched friends and families, and it was their bonds that made the harsh times passable. I grew lonely. In each town I wove stories about being a survivor. Kind folks would take me in, despite the strain on their family life. I learned to make a life for myself.
Monotony became a friend and an enemy. When my heart was no longer distracted and the laughter and new faces surrounding me dulled my pain, time was my friend. Soon though, my attention was drawn back to how I was alone. How I lied, and hid, and betrayed those that came to trust me. Time became my enemy, and I found myself leaving in the middle of the night. I have left behind, friends, care-givers, husbands, and adopted children. I am unsure if it was despite my love, or because of my love, that I could not stay. All I knew was that I could never stay long.
Time once again wore me down, but this time I decided not to leave. I decided to stay and make it work. I felt younger, despite now being over a century and a quarter years old. This sweet girl, who I imagine would have been just the kind of girl I would have wanted for a sister grew ill. Everything that could have been done was done. Those with questionable, shamed gifts even attended her, and still she grew weaker. It became harder for her to breathe. She smelled of death, of decay and rot on the inside. I couldn't bare it.
In a desire to share myself with someone, that healed my heart and soul with her innocence I gave her some of my blood. Hoping, praying against the odds that somehow she could rise out of the earth like I have done nightly in all my years. I gave her as much of my blood as I could, for that I knew to be the key in why I was different. I gave to much blood and had left to drink from somewhere where it would not be traced back to me. I would return and give blood again. It was a cycle.
Finally, I believed her to be ready. When her heart stopped I learned where she had been buried and waited. Time became a fierce enemy as I waited.
The person that awoke from the earth did not resemble the one I wanted to be a sister. I was shocked at her behavior and for that, the townsmen paid with their lives. I believed there was good still in her, I attempted to persuade her. For my compassion women and children paid with their lives. There was no discretion, she drank the lifeblood of our neighbors, and ripped apart their farm animals. The whole island was painted in red. I remember crazy eyes, tangled unbound hair, and dirty fingers reaching for me and being knocked to the ground. I was still stunned, and watched the blood, a stream of it; make its way to the sea. I imagined that it would be carried all the way to England and knew then that no one would survive. No one did, but me.
I was never a part of the town's census so I never existed. This entire colony went up in panic, smoke, and blood, in a matter of days. She was insatiable.
I wonder what tales will be spun about our town. What stories will be told about our lives here on the Island. Will England believe we perished in the harsh conditions as we battled nature, or will they think we fell to the natives on this unforgiving land? Maybe they will believe this land is cursed? It will not matter to me, but it will matter to those that died horribly. In the end, The First Colony is no more.
Each time I felt that I could attack and defeat her, I would hesitate and blood spilled. It took me weeks to clean everything up and hide the evidence of the unnaturalness in what was home. She has left but I know that it will be easy to find her. There is no control, no gentleness in her heart. I pity her, for she is crazed and deranged. I do not weep for my neighbors, for those lives cruelly ended due to my selfishness. Instead, I weep for the innocence lost in her, in how I created a monster. But mostly I weep for myself, because even though I know what might happen, I can't bear to walk on this earth for another century all alone.
The personal writings, of
Born Of the Blood
She was positioned in a corner, not out of a desire to be hidden, but because in between reading the undamaged and collected writings of the apparently mysterious Lady Belendrake, Garnet's swirling colored eyes, a feature of most typical mage born children, would peek out and over the tome to watch her people. Mostly, she watched Holly Bercovitz.
Today the women sat quiet on the edge of a common room. It was a large improvement in the most recent weeks. She was not shunned but not fully integrated into their society. Instead she lived on the edges, hopefully for the moment. Tight little lines appeared on the newly converted Carpathians face and around her eyes. She was probably having trouble filtering out the chatter on the common mental path link that their people shared. She appeared overwhelmed, and Garnet had a moment where sympathy flood her veins and she actually considered going over there.
But then she followed Holly's line of vision and traced where her gaze sat unblinking at Helio, and knew that the converted would be fine. Her interference would be unwelcomed, even if she was friends with the newest father. It would imply that he and his house were incapable of their new duty and responsibility. Watching Helio now, she noticed despite his carefree attitude and slouched posture that radiated calmness he was entirely too focused on his progeny. The others he was speaking with were probably deceived but, she thought them fools.
And Helio was a fool if he thought he fooled his friends into believing he was alright when he suddenly converted a Carpathian. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, and her rising energy levels as they sparked and responded to her emotions she returned to the manuscript. The writings were in order though age destroyed some texts. Blood, fire, brittle parchment all inched slowly as time passed throughout the tome, making the Carpathian's thoughts vanish from the world. Entire passage and worse pages, fully entries were lost on the winds of time. The next legible paragraph had no date but it remained only a few years after the Roanoke Colony incident and she read on.
For the longest time I ignored the dark whisperings, feeling those around me were uneducated. After all how could these people know more about me and the possibility of others like me? People fear and that fear becomes an evil ruler without any trunk to lock it in. Each town the whispers grew darker, the tales became more ugly and extravagant. I ignored them all, for the differences between what I was and what I could be were great, compared to what they spoke about. Now, I reflect back and realized it is still the same, and yet completely different. I ignore the differences between these rising dark creatures from the Devil, because now I am consumed by what I find similar between us. Vampire, demon, or devil-spawn, is that what I come from?
If she was being honest to herself and truthful to her people, she was obligated to turn this tome over to the council and they would read it and dissect it, hoping to discover if Narcissa left some clue behind. However, it was a personal item, an heirloom of House Belendrake and if she had any decency she would hand it over to Stefan, instead. The council could not demand the document then. Yet, she did neither, even though numerous opportunities presented themselves since she had found it.
It was cruel and heartless to hold information, to hold history from their people, especially a descendent. Simply, she read on, while keeping her eye on Holly, who was keeping an eye on Helio. Judging by the anxious expression on the other woman's face often enough, Holly suspected if not outright knew that Helio was leaving her soon, and was worried about growing into her new self without him.
All in all it was turning out to be quite an informative day. As she considered her options she continued to read on. This passage was about Narcissa discovering her ability to transform her shape, and her struggles as she perfected it. It would prove to a most interesting read, Garnet Dragonseeker thought, as she readjusted her position slightly until she was comfortable once again.
This is a small piece..and interlude like thing, as I set it all up. Sorry it's moving a bit slow, but really this is all about the people, I promise you we will get there. I know I said it would be a longer piece, but I still can't seem to shorten it or break it up, so this is what you get for now. When it's perfect the next piece should be posted, which should actually be kind of soon, like a week thereabouts.
Your comments fuel my passion for writting, so please take a moments and leave me a review with your thoughts, comments, and advice! I live for feedback and your thoughts on what you want next! I have plenty of scenes being written but I have trouble selecting which ones to keep!
Until next time,
1. I am writing on Dark Moments again! Finally got over this block. Don't expect anything for atleast a month, but it's finally coming together!
2. Always been fascinated with the mystery of Roanoke Island and Croatoan...sooo here it is.. I solved it! HA!
3. To many characters shouting in my ears. Trying to write as fast as possible! My muse is in high gear! Expect more soon!
Response to reviews-
1. Kuroneko388- Thanks for taking the time to review and share your thoughts with me. Holly hasn't really spoken to me..just whispers..but hopefully she will yell and get her piece. I can say we won't leave her out though!
2. Mcamastow- Yes and no. Some lose feeling and color a bit earlier due to their limited childhood and the harness of having to survive and battle vampires and lose/kill/leave behind their own friends. However, Helio is just under 200 and the change is starting in him. :(
3. Minosa- Thank you for taking the time to read and review! I hope you checked out my other fics as well! Glad you like the tornado we are spinning in and hope you enjoy what else I have planned!