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Marius stood looking out the arched window. He had with him a telescope that had just arrived. He adjusted the lens tilting at a perfect angle, bending down to his knee to look through it. The sun had set approximately one hour ago, the sky now giving away to a beautifully deep prussian blue. It was a clear night, and the stars had began their age old performance of dazzling whoever had the desire to tip their head back and get lost in the endless possibility of the night sky.
Immortality has not been an easy feat, it shocks me to know that in this ever changing 21st century we are still here. In the quiet lonely hours of the dusk my soul had a penchant for gloom, but now an uneasy comfort had found its way into me. It felt odd, I was unsure what to make of this feeling, I wanted to reach out and grab ahold of this happiness but I worry that once I wrap my arms around it it shall disappear and despair will overtake me again.
It’s February, and a cold, bone chilling one at that. Just over one month has passed since the three captors were taken and Rhoshmandes was killed. There were celebrations for a week, balls and all the pomp and circumstance that our prince loved so dearly, but now life has returned to normal, as more vampires slowly have made their way to our home.
“What are you looking for tonight?” I wondered aloud.
“I am trying to locate the Camelopardalis constellation apparently it is visible all night long.”
“The giraffe?” I laughed.
“Yes. Though I wouldn’t say it looks like any I’ve ever seen.”
Tonight after waking I had purposely sought out company. I looked at Marius for a moment, at the expanse of his shoulders under his red velvet blazer, tense with a firmness that only comes to the body when you have lived for many millennia. There was a peaceful quiet between us, thankfully Marius had always been able to enjoy tranquility - I was forever grateful for our silence never becoming awkward.
He continued to face the window. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you in that cream dress. It suits you much better than those dreary black ones you’ve been languishing in these last few weeks.”
“Well aren’t you lovely tonight.” I answered.
He scoffed. “My darling I mean you no ill will, the dark fabric absorbs all of the vibrancy you contain. I only wish you see you happy.”
He knew exactly why I dressed that way, for it was his fault. “I know.”
My eyes narrowed as I debated whether or not to continue this conversation, if so we would begin our usually nightly spat, upset over a dress. How silly maybe one day everyone will walk around naked and no one would bat an eye. I stayed silent, for now.
I sat in the comfortable worn in leather chair at his desk, a heavy thing made of a deep rich maple with intricate carvings on the legs. On top of it were various papers and books stacked on each other and a picture frame. Simple, black, modern and sleek, almost out of place here, and in it a photo of Daniel with the Aurora Borealis from their time living together in Norway. I smiled, it was a beautiful photo. It was a good thing to see Daniel so happy, I had visited them two or three times in those years, I remember when they first had come together how unwell Daniel had been, it was heart warming to see how things had changed. Now Daniel lives with us, spending time in the series of apartments used by the so called “De Romanus bloodline”. I never would have thought this would be possible.
One item stood out, on the corner of the desk sat an old red book on botany. Of course, Marius had always loved flowers. I remember the orange blossoms in his courtyard two thousand years ago. How the little white petals would scatter across the tiles. I picked it up flipping through it for a moment delighted by the illustrations, stopping briefly to look at the page on the lily of the valley. I placed it back down near the picture frame.
“That book goes on the left hand corner of the desk.” Marius said.
“Really? How did you see me, I thought you were looking outside?” I arched an eyebrow at him. He turned around.
“I heard you pick it up, and place it down again, the wood is thinner at the sides of the desk.” He answered.
“I think it looks perfectly fine where I placed it.”
“Yes but Pandora, you know I value preciseness. I placed it there so it was surrounded with exactly an inch of warm maple wood, which helps to illuminate the gold illustrated chrysanthemums on the cover, perfectly contrasting the beautiful red leather binding, that book is a 1922 encyclopaedia of gardening. I have taken care of it for a century.” He said.
I tried so hard to bite back my smile, but the urge was too strong.
“Always the caretaker aren’t we?” I asked.
He laughed in response. “ I guess so.”
My hands came up to delicately graze my earrings. Perhaps I was a caretaker as well, I have had these since 1927. Dove tears younger than his book. Elegant art deco dangling things, long silver shards of obsidian, turning into the shape of a hand fan at the end, how I treasured them.
I could see his blue eyes catch on the silver ornamentations. He came and stood behind me in the chair and placed his large hands on my shoulders, causing a shiver to run through me. “Those are beautiful, I wonder who bought them for you?” He smirked, and now it was his turn to arch his eyebrow in a questioning manner.
I kept a mostly straight face, I couldn’t give him too much satisfaction. “It was so long ago I hardly remember. I’ve taken care of them for a century.”
“They were finally tarnishing but I got them repaired in Paris in the fall. There was a chip one millimeter deep in the obsidian on the right earring but it’s been fixed.”
“Good, if it can be repaired it should. They are far too beautiful to go to waste.”
I stood up, and he embraced me, his arms were instantly wrapped around my waist. I put mine around his shoulders. I loved to hug people this way, but especially him, he was still so tall, and in this position you could really feel all of him. Especially the ancient and ever blooming strength underneath such a soft velvet cover.
I broke away from the embrace, feigning distraction and looking upwards as I had heard a sound. It was back, the fearful satisfaction of things becoming “normal” between us.
“I’ll be back in a while.”
I headed to the door, looking over my shoulder I winked at him playfully. Our little game was not over, merely paused.
The library was peaceful, at 10 pm all of our kind has woken up, many are off feeding and travelling together. It had been a while since I traveled. Oh how sweet! Armand and Louis sat together on an overstuffed deep green sofa, pouring over a book. I smiled to myself remembering how his eyes lit up seeing Marius once again, how I linked arms with Bianca as the three of us approached Armand’s apartments. It was somber on entrance, Armand sat looking out the window at the snow, but he turned slowly and in an uncharacteristic display of emotion he ran to him, in a comfortable embrace they sat on the sofa reuniting once more. Our are species came together over and over, the centuries played host to a thousand reunions.
I have been happy for them this last while, and happy for the return of my darling Mitka. Who was getting along very well with Louis. My heartaches thinking of the amount of times Marius and Armand have been together and apart again, how Armand holed up out of fear of truly losing him. I remember how Marius was when we thought Armand to be dead, I never wish to see him that way again. He would not get out of his coffin and Daniel phoned me powerless and devastated by the news, I stayed with him until we heard the rumour that he was still alive.
A few hours later, around 1:30 am, I skipped down the corridor, it was freeing to move in such a way, my long cream coloured skirt streaming behind me, along with my hair. Only the sound of my bare feet ringing out as they padded along the marble floor. Marius was following me, though he attempted to walk quietly, his ancient heartbeat filled the space, I could smell his cologne permeating the air, a comforting woodish creamy earth scent, with a hint of something juicy and ripe - fig perhaps? With all its leaves still on the branches. I remember the delicious taste of figs. I closed my eyes and the scent was green and fresh like the Mediterranean coastline.
He was beside me, and I hadn’t realized I stopped.
“Skipping? A rather childish mode of transportation, even for you my dear.” His voice broke through the silence.
“It is not childish, actually many psychologists believe that doing things that are considered childish is quite healthy, play is a natural way to heal the bruised part of the soul.”
He opened his mouth and I knew he had a verbal counterattack coming so, I interrupted him “You know what we should do, tomorrow allow me to paint your portrait.”
He looked shocked by my offer. “I’m sure you would make a painfully unflattering caricature of myself, not unlike the ones we saw down by the beach a few days ago.” He retorted.
“Yes, you couldn’t stop complaining about how ugly the paintings of the models they were. But you have such little faith in me? I would do it with the utmost devotion. Too handsome to behold, it would have to be destroyed immediately after completion”
“All of the paintings I have done of you over the ages have been made that way. With utmost devotion as you put it. ”He mused.
Before I could answer he said “I think one can flourish only if they live that way, even doing tasks that are deemed to be trivial. I’ve come to learn that work done in an efficient devoted manner can still be satisfying no matter how menial it may seem. I’ve gotten an immense amount of pleasure for centuries by mixing paints together. The joy of waiting for a small capsule of such pure pigment to arrive and wondering all the possibilities, it’s truly indescribable. And then, when it’s time for the painting, perhaps if there is anything godly under this deep azure sky, it may be in the act of creating simply for creations sake.”
“That is deeply admirable. I think that makes sense from someone with a tendency to get so absorbed in his work he wipes his paint brushes on his clothes, which is definitely an efficient way to do your work. I cannot believe you still do that after all these years. Is it that difficult to step a foot away from your canvas and use a cloth?”
“That is completely irrelevant” He laughed.
What a lovely laugh he had.
“No it is not. I saw you last night, working on that painting you were so engrossed in the composition I swear I saw you began to smudge at the grass with your fingers.” It was terribly cute but I wouldn’t tell him that. I wouldn’t give him the upper hand.
“Some things simply respond better to the careful caresses of one’s fingertips.” He whispered.
“Like that long and powerful telescope you just got?” I laughed, I couldn’t help myself.
I gave him a challenging smirk and ran down the hallway, he followed behind me and much to my surprise, he encircled his arms around my waist like he had earlier in the night, except he picked me up. I gasped and laughed. He threw me over his shoulder! I couldn’t believe it.
“Put me down you brute! Barbarian!” I playfully swatted at him.
“No my dear. You’re all mine now, to do whatever I want with!” He exclaimed and began a brisk walk down the hall. Being held like this always makes me feel like a girl again when I yearned for this sort of embrace. I leaned up to kiss him. His lips were cool against mine.
I’m all truthfulness I did not want him to put me down.
He carried me back to his room, and he tossed me onto the bed and climbed on afterwards. He looked far too handsome above me. I reached out and tucked a strand of white blonde hair behind his ear.
We were a blurred tangle of limbs until I got on top of him. His collared white shirt was held together by pearl inlaid snaps, perfect to be pulled apart. I reached boldly and grabbed at it, revealing his bare smooth chest.
I began kissing him, my tongue licked at his sensitive fang, causing him to groan. He hadn’t fed in a while, and even though we were old enough to not need fresh blood every night the urge never went away.
I bit into his neck and was instantly electrified by his thick rich life-giving fluid. My nerves were awake and every cell in my body seemed aware of what was happening. His blood flowed through me once again after all this time and I basked in it. I felt warmth spread through me as I remembered that I had been his first time - the first one he had transformed into a vampire, his first fledgling. Regardless of all that came after I was the original reason others believed that he was so skilled in making fledglings. How wonderful it felt the very first time his essence flowed into mine forever entangling us together. Now matter how far or long we were apart, we never really were.
I pulled back satisfied, but he drew near me, and opening his mouth I saw his fangs glint in the low light. And then he sank them into the sensitive spot where my neck becomes my shoulder. I gasped as they penetrated deeper into me, piercing and stretching my muscle. His fangs were always longer than I remembered. I lightly pushed my shoulder back against his mouth to create friction between us. Now deep enough to leave a bruise he pulled out. Spurts of blood began to flow, and he lapped them up all while staring up at me.
Afterwards the overarching satisfaction raced through our forms and we could do nothing but embrace as we waited for it to end. In his featherlight kisses across my cheeks were a thousand memories, and I basked in them, the warmth of an Antioch evening, the salt water lapping at the foundation of a Venetian palazzo, the chirping of little birds found painted in the ruined murals of Pompeii.
I imagined how we looked together on this bed, Ancient bodies intertwined, how different were they from archeological finds where two lovers were buried in each others arms for eternity?
I looked over at the brilliant mantle piece above the blazing fire. Above it a shelf stocked with old cameras and a few photographs.
“Have you talked with Armand lately?” I asked
“Yes, but that melancholy tension has returned. When you love someone but so much time has passed from when you were truly golden together that you don’t know what to say to them now.” Marius said softly.
“But I know that it will not be this way forever.” He said.
We both fell asleep.
A few hours later - 4 am - we awoke again, I began to hum a song, I hadn’t thought of in centuries. It was a lullaby, all of the words weren’t there but the melody was. The loving warmth was still there. A woman with wavy black hair, a Greek nursemaid rocked me once, as sunlight streamed in, was this one of my very first memories?
Marius turned over on the bed looking at me, “What are you singing? It’s familiar.” He reached up to comb his fingers through my hair, like he had done so many times before. “ I don’t remember many of the words but it was sung to me as a very little girl.”
“A song lost to time.” He said wistfully “except it’s not really lost, if we remember it.”
I smiled. “Lost to time is such a tragic phrase isn’t it. Perhaps that’s why we cannot- should not die, because if we are gone then all that we have witnessed will die alongside us.” Tears threatened to spill out of my eyes.
“Sometimes it’s all too much for me, existing for so long? Some nights I feel as if I cannot continue. Occasionally the emptiness is so strong, I wish to see one last sun rise, do you ever feel this way?” I covered my mouth in shock of what I just said, I couldn’t stop the question from escaping my mouth.
Marius looked at me, eyes widened. Tears streamed down my cheeks and embarrassment racked through me, he wrapped his arms around me, and I hated it, feeling like I must be comforted like a little girl. These feelings plagued me and he knew it, though I hated to express them.
“I’m sorry. It just crosses my mind when I feel empty. Then it leaves when joy returns to me. When Rhoshamandes took you I felt so terrible.”
He cleared his throat, but there was still a waver to his voice “Please do not do it. I know existing for such a long time is truly unbelievable, I scarcely can wrap my mind around all that I have witnessed. Do not die, not properly, I don’t know what i’d do without you.” He ran his fingers through my hair like he’d done so many times before and kissed me on the forehead. I sat silently letting his words pour over me.
“I believe I have existed for so long in hope of being with you again. Having the opportunity to hold you in my arms just like this. The suffering was never permanent no matter how exhausting it could be.” He said.
“It breaks me heart to know that’s those I love the most feel this way.” Marius looked away, “I refuse to lose you know, I thought lost Armand a second time and that was almost my undoing but I will not allow this to happen to you.”
“Answer me. Answer me my beautiful girl.”
“I will not leave. Not yet, though it frightens me, I’m curious about the world. It’s unfair that all of your immortality you have functioned as a caretaker, and after Akasha died I lost myself for a while, but you were there.” I wiped at my eyes, and he leaned in to kiss my cheek tasting the blood tears. “And it’s woman by the way, or am I still the foolish girl threatening to run away with you?” I let out a tired laugh and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.
“I’d still do it. Run away with you, I’ve heard that at this time of year Spain is beautiful. I haven’t been in almost three hundred years.”
“I haven’t been there in a while, Barcelona was incredible. Perhaps we could visit Sagrada Familia, I plan on living long enough to see it finally completed.” Marius said.
I sat up from the bed, tucking my hair behind my ears. The scarlet blankets were tossed this way and that, but something caught my eye. I slowly made my way to the dresser to stare at the painting in a gilded frame above it. I had never seen it before, it was enthralling. It must be the sun - I missed the sun sometimes, though I try not to dwell on it. A ball of creamy yellowish white in the center of the canvas and from it erupted streaks of yellow, blue, red, pink and white, against the turquoise sky. It was pure radiance and I couldn’t help but reach out and touch the ridges of thick paint that stood out from the painting. The red and orange rays were long and bright enough to make it to the land across the glowing lake the sun reflected across.
“Oh Marius this is so very beautiful. Who is the painter?” I said.
“It is Edvard Munch’s The Sun. He made many paintings of the sun but this I first saw it in 1960, it is held at the University of Oslo, one night I snuck in and to look at it, indescribably captivated I stared at the original for hours. It’s a massive overwhelming work, perhaps twenty five feet long. It holds a vitality only a momentous canvas could truly convey. The vivacity of the pigment compels me even to this day.” He said with reverence.
“It is absolutely alive. It radiates warmth.” I said, only faintly aware that Marius now stood beside me.
“It made me feel something that I had not experienced in two millennia.”
I smiled at him, entwining my fingers with his. We stood together in silence now. Staring at the sun so beautifully illustrated, I felt light, and almost mortal again, little in my father’s arms as we watched the sun rise and marble buildings became a pale yellow. Though I am unable to look upon the real sun that shines while we vampires are in the death sleep this would have to do, and it was a stunning replacement.
“ I am happy you are smiling once more, your eyes always sparkle.” Marius said.
“Thank you.”
I couldn’t help but smirk remembering how my father said I would forget Marius, and what of him? I am now one of the only beings on this earth that saw him as a mortal man. Though he barely looks different than he did on that afternoon when he stood under a tree writing, his lovely blonde hair, longer than it had been before blowing in the breeze.
Marius looked over at me. “In a few hours the sun will be up, would you sleep in my crypt with me? I have an extra coffin if you wan-
“If I’m sleeping in your crypt it will be with you, I know the don’t make very many spacious sarcophagi now, as mortals aren’t interested in taking things with them to the afterlife but, I’m sure we can both fit. I’ll lay on top of you, I know you like that.” I winked at him. He was oh so easy to tease.
He rolled his eyes, and kissed me on the cheek.
“Oh my darling, my oldest desire. It was ridiculous for me to insinuate that you would not want to. Perhaps I adore you too greatly and when I am finally alone with you I love you far too much and I act as foolish as a boy.”
“That’s all right.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “As I said before it’s all right to act as a boy, you were one once, weren’t you?”
“I might have been one once, long ago.”
“Shall we head to the crypt early? There is nothing let to do in the early morning. Yesterday night I went to Paris accompanied by Armand, Sybelle and Bianca, we stopped at a florist just about to close and got a bouquet of gardenia and goldenrod, let me bring some down with us, the woman in the store assumed Sybelle and Bianca were my daughters.” Said Marius.
“Will you add some petals to the bed of the sarcophagus like in times of old?”
“Of course.”
“Let’s go, I’m thirsty again.” I entwined our fingers and headed towards the large crimson canopy bed.