Out Of The Dark
by Lara
July 1999
This is a piece of amateur fiction and not intended to infringe on
the copyrights of Anne Rice or her publishers.
Spoilers for TVA
Translations of the Latin phrases:
Quid vultis in cella mea? - What are you doing in my cell?
Hic
sumus, ut tibi vale dicari. - We are here to say farewell to you.
It was over.
I had lost the game, had been defeated finally. Was lost on my own
battlefield. My figure was being taken from the board and placed next to
it, without any importance, a useless piece that had fulfilled its
purpose and was now replaced. Now only one question remained; would the
figure be simply ignored, or would it be broken, crushed to dust?
What happened I could have predicted, should have foreseen, must have
known. I had been aware of what was going on, but somehow I had never
believed them to actually stand up and do what I had prepared them for.
The teacher tries to give his knowledge to the students, but does he
ever expect them to use it? I certainly hadn't. And now I would pay the
price for being so short-sighted. All I could hope for now was that I
had not taught them everything, had not perfected them.
"Quid vultis in cella mea?" I asked them in the usual calm,
controlled voice, my face a perfect blank, the mask I was so used to
wear in front of them that it had become normal to me. This, I noticed
with a certain amount of pleasure, was something they had not learned.
Indifference in any situation, even if your life depends on it, is
something that needs time to be mastered. Time was what gave the
possibility to struggle for perfection, to learn and repeat the lessons.
Who rushed would never gain knowledge.
"Use a language everybody understands." My own words, spoken months
ago to this creature I would have been overjoyed to meet in a different
situation, were thrust back at me. He had certainly learned a lot of the
art of words. Now we would see if he could use it as well.
"You should really attempt to master Latin." Add a slightly
reprehending undertone, and watch how he reacts.
"What for? It is old-fashioned, and not useful anymore. Like you."
Very well done. But he made the mistake of showing his thoughts too
soon, he gave away things he could have used later. Quite good, but far
from being something that could be called close to perfection. He had
never had the patience necessary to really study every aspect of the art
of debating.
"Hic sumus, ut tibi vale dicari." Now this was something completely
different. She had always been a keen student, and she had learned well.
And the progress she had made during the last few months was remarkable.
She was showing a lot more interest in the lessons, as if she had
finally discovered that what I taught her could be useful. The way she
was standing in front of me, next to her lover, her hair matted and
coated with dirt and dust, her dress torn, she radiated power. A regal
being if ever I saw one. Not even my dear Allesandra had accomplished
this state of majesty. She had been a ruler, but in a different way;
what Allesandra had achieved through cleverness and diplomacy, Isabella
carried out with her charisma. I would have been proud of her if she
weren't trying to replace, expel and kill me. But I could certainly say
that she had paid attention to what I had taught her. I had prepared her
for such situations, had given her the knowledge how to react, how to
overthrow. But never had I expected her to actually use it. Theory was a
wonderful thing, but when it became reality, it suddenly did not look
that pretty and worthwhile anymore.
"So what will you do?" I looked at them inquiringly, as if I were
questioning them as I had done during so many lessons. "Will you return
to the coven and pretend that this has not happened? Will you try to
achieve a pact with the master to participate in the power? Or," I
leaned forward, my hands on the table, "will you attempt to kill the
master, risking to lose your life if you fail? It is your choice. Choose
wisely. Which of the three possibilities do you decide to execute,
Isabella?" She smiled me, her lips curling without any humor. The best
student I had had for centuries turned against me.
"I will choose the fourth possibility," she stated firmly, and
continued as I rose my eyebrows questioningly. "I will try to persuade
the master," the way she pronounced the title, it seemed an
insult, "to leave the coven without a fight."
"An interesting new strategy," I admitted, leaning back in my chair
again. "I am waiting for your arguments." She quickly looked at her
companion, that handsome French who spoke such horribly accented Italian
and Latin. Apparently she had not foreseen this reaction of me. What had
she believed I would do, scold her for inventing a new idea? I would
have praised her for this if it were not my downfall she was plotting.
But with this quick glance she had let me see that she was not prepared
for everything, that I could probably fend her off if I was careful
enough.
But did I want to?
The idea of leaving the coven was strangely appealing to me. I had
not thought of this before, not seriously at least, but now the
possibility to leave, to quit this all, was here. I could seize the
opportunity, could do something new. Hadn't I began to think during the
last few decades that the life as Satan's follower was no more what I
wanted? Had I not secretly envied the rogues for the freedom they had?
But thinking of abandoning my former life was different from walking out
of the door forever.
Jacques was pacing the room, his nervousness visible and distracting.
Isabella went at his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, which
calmed him again. He looked at her, devotion in his eyes, and moved to
lean against the wall at the door, not averting his eyes from her. The
French vampire had been integrated in our coven finally, after Amadeo
had written that he thought I might enjoy to have such an intelligent
and talented young one in my flock. Clever Amadeo, he probably had not
been sure how to deal with such an ambitious and overenthusiastic being,
and therefore had sent his problem away so others would take care of it.
And now Jacques had joined my coven three months ago, and had until now
participated in every conspiracy among the group. His influence was
rather impressive, and he could easily inspire the others. Combined with
Isabella's charisma... Enthusiastic followers were hard to defeat.
"I have an offer for you," Isabella came closer and looked at me from
the other side of the desk. "You agree to leave quietly, without
informing the coven. They must not know that you are still alive. And in
turn we will not come after you for a week."
"So I get seven nights to leave Roman territory?" She nodded
slightly.
"If you are still within the borders of the Papal States after that
period, you will be treated as a rogue. Certainly you know what that
means."
"And what if I don't agree with your plan? Would you risk everything
in an attempt to kill me? You cannot be sure that you can win a fight
against me." Now she smiled again, and ran a hand through her dusty
hair.
"I would not dream of attacking you, there are easier ways to defeat
you. Who would not believe your assistant if she says that you have gone
mad? The news of that old female vampire in Paris have spread far
already, the coven would think that you could not get over the news of
her insanity. The flock is ready to believe everything if it is
presented to them in a convincing way." An interesting idea, and so
simple that I wondered why nobody else had thought of this yet. It
appeared that Isabella would indeed be able to force me out of the
coven. If she told the others that I had gone mad, they would burn me
without thinking twice about it. And I knew that they while they
respected and feared me, they liked her, and would turn against me.
Authorities are never loved.
"Jacques, leave." I looked at him sternly.
"Why..."
"Because I say so. It is still me who leads this coven." After
receiving a confirming nod from Isabella, he turned and left the room,
closing the door behind him.
"What do you want?" Isabella asked, a queen who granted a wish to a
peasant, and I felt pride to see her like this. Maybe Amadeo had not
turned out to be the leader I had wanted him to be - he was too
dependent on others to really rule on his own - but Isabella reflected
exactly how I imagined a true Master. She was my success, my
masterpiece. The end of my time. The old Phoenix goes into the fire, and
the young one surrects from the ashes. She would succeed me, and rule
the coven, and I knew she was capable of this, maybe even more than I
was; she had closer contacts to the group, while I had been forced to
distance myself from them. And she knew what she wanted, she had plans
already. Her initiative surprised me, I had never believed her to be
creative enough to think of a completely new strategy on her own. It
appeared that I had underestimated her rather thoroughly; I could not
even guess anymore what she would do next.
"I want to know why you let me go. What are your reasons?" I had to
know, what if my leaving was only a part of a greater scheme of which I
was not aware? Not knowing that you are only a pawn in the game is
always dangerous. Know your role, and play it in a way that brings
advantages only to yourself.
"It would be foolish to try to kill you." She moved to sit on the
stool opposite me, her movements graceful as always. "Murder is
permitted by the laws, and though the coven would not mind if you met
your end, the person who is responsible for your death would never be
respected. Authority can never be based on a murder."
"They would not obey, you are right." I nodded thoughtfully.
"Assassins have no honor, and cannot be rulers themselves."
"My point exactly."
"Why did you not send Jacques to do it?" Isabella laughed softly, and
leaned back, completely relaxed. Admirably.
"Would you trust him? He is a tool in this, nothing else. Maybe he
thinks that he will participate in the power, but he is only my
companion, not my partner in this. I can't risk giving him the
opportunity to praise himself of killing you, that would interfere with
my plans. He is only useful if I need to inspire the coven."
"Do you love him?" She looked at me, her delicate, dirty features
clearly mirroring her confusion. I repeated the question, and noticed
that her eyes had acquired a coldness that had not been there before. A
wound spot, it seemed, maybe this could be useful.
"Love? What is love but a hindrance on the way to power?" Her voice
was bitter, I would have to tread carefully if I did not want her to
become completely unpredictable. "You were the one who taught me that
emotions must be suppressed, that feelings only distract and keep your
thoughts from the more important things. Be an egoist, that were your
words, I remember you saying them, sitting in this very chair, looking
exactly like this. Be an egoist, only care about yourself, don't think
about the others if they cannot be used to help you to reach your
purpose. Do you remember, Santino?" This was the first time she had not
called me by my title but by my name. No more differences between us, I
was no longer her superior. "I am egoistic now. I know what I want, and
I will not care what happens to the others. Your fate does not concern
me."
Her hands were resting calmly in her lap, and saw something I had
never noticed in all the years I had known her. On her right hand, the
ringfinger, to be exact, covered with dust and dirt, I saw a sparkle of
gold or a similar material in the candlelight. Looking closer, I found
that she was wearing a ring, a small, simple ring. It looked not very
expensive, so she had probably not kept it for its value. What did it
mean to her that she had kept it for all this time? She was nearly
hundred years old, what memories did this piece of metal hold that it
was worth being saved for so long? I realized that I knew nearly nothing
of her mortal life, who she had been, what she had been. Not even her
full name I knew. Those things had mattered to me in the early years, I
had been interested in the background of every new vampire who joined
the coven. Their age, their family, their beliefs, all these details I
had known. I still remembered them, I knew who they had been. But what
were they now but ashes? The few ones who had formed the original coven
were all dead, apart from Allesandra and me, and she had gone mad. I was
the only one who was left, all the old ones, who I had called brothers,
were gone. I was alone, surrounded by children who thought that the
origins of the coven were something so long gone that they weren't worth
being remembered. But I could still recall the faces, the voices.
Sometimes those who had vanished or died long ago were more real to me
than those who surrounded me. Their souls were still with me, they did
not leave me alone, me, the last of the old group. They would always be
here, silently watching me. What would they have done, would they have
left quietly, or would they have fought? Shaking my head slightly, I
tried to suppress these thoughts. There lay no use in attempting to
follow their patterns of thought; I had to decide this on my own, they
could not help me. Isabella was looking at me, her face the blank I had
taught her to always wear.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked her. "Why do you let me get away?"
It was against everything she had learned, she knew that she must not
leave witnesses. Never let an old opposer live, he will be behind you
when you least suspect it. Wasn't that logical?
"I told you, they would not respect me if I killed..."
"Don't talk such nonsense!" I interrupted her roughly. "We both know
that this is not the real reason. You would be very well capable of
convincing them that it was not murder. Why? Why!"
"Because killing the leader is the old system!" she was nearly
screaming now, this was exciting her greatly. "The archaic way of
killing the predecessor! But we have to find new rules and guidelines,
we can't stay the same for a thousand years. There must be new ideas, a
new structure. Look at the world around you! Don't you see the change
that is going on? England has a constitution now, the power of the
people in Florence and Venice is being confirmed, the Holy Church is
losing her influence. We must take the hints, and change! Despotism
can't survive any longer, and neither can religion. Everything is
strategy now, theories, thoughts." She calmed step by step, and smoothed
her hair back with a trembling hand. "That's why I let you leave. Choose
your exile yourself, but leave, and don't interfere with us
anymore."
"Do you really think I have been blind to this?" I asked her quietly.
"Don't you believe that I have noticed the changes as well?"
"Of course I know that you were aware of them," she answered almost
too quickly, as if she had expected this question and already prepared
an answer. "But still you were stuck in the old ways, because they were
your ways." I opened my mouth to interrupt her, but she rose her hand
and silenced me. "Let me finish this before you defend your decisions.
The rules you created worked for the covens for more than three
centuries, but they have finally reached the point where they become
old-fashioned and awkward. We have to change, but if you stay here, it
will be impossible."
Smiling, I listened to her words that reminded me of myself. She had
the same ideals, wanted to reach the same goals. Some things never
seemed to change, there would always be the same types of persons. She
was looking at me, waiting for my answer on this, but did I really want
to say something? Hadn't I decided already what I would do?
I stood, went to the old trunk in the back of the room, and unlocked
it. The lid was heavy to lift even with vampiric power, and maybe some
of the younger ones would not have been able to open it. I looked
inside, at the carefully sorted objects inside. Sheets of paper that had
turned yellow over the years, a few old coins that nobody would accept
anymore, moth-eaten clothes, books whose pages were crumbling to dust
when I touched them. Time had shown no mercy for my belongings, they had
aged while I had remained as I had been when I had stored the things in
this trunk. But I did not care about that now; I took out a few small
books bound in leather, and blew the dust from the covers. Silently, I
came to Isabella's side and handed them to her. She looked at me
inquiringly, and I sat down again on my chair.
"My diaries. Maybe they will be useful for you, there were times when
I rather wrote my reasoning down than talk to somebody." I leaned back.
"I suppose you won't agree with everything I wrote, but you might see
some things clearer, and avoid some mistakes I made."
"So you will go?" Leaning forward, she put the books on the desk, and
looked at me as if she wanted to read the answer from my face. But she
did not try to read my mind.
"Yes. I have been thinking of leaving before, but never wanted to
make the final step. Now you leave me no real choice; I suppose I should
be grateful that you force me to decide how much the coven means to me.
And I have found that it is not worth a fight with you. I will go, as
soon as possible. There must have been a lot of changes in the world of
mortals, I want to see what has happened while I have been down here
serving God. You do realize that there is no God, no?"
"I never thought there could be such a being," she said, surprising
me again. This evening revealed more of her personality to me than I had
found out about her during the last century. Maybe I should have talked
to her in this way more often.
"But if you did not believe in God, what made you stay? Why did you
follow the rules?"
"Can't you guess? It is obvious, really. I would have been killed if
I did not obey. So why not pretend to believe in chants and sabbats when
it means that you are accepted in a group? I would have been on my own
if I had rebelled, and so it was easy to decide what I would do. But I
believed in the necessity of belief."
Fascinating, truly fascinating. How many of the coven were thinking
like this? Did any of the flock still believe in what I had told them?
Maybe Isabella was an exception, she could be the only one who had
realized that there was no supreme being ruling over our actions. But
then again, were the others really that dumb? The coven had firmly
believed in God and Satan once, all of the group. I had seen my purpose
in doing what I thought would be right, and had claimed to act in the
name of God, and had believed that He was the one who had created us.
Now I was not sure about a lot of things, but one I knew: there was no
God, and there had never been one. And it hurt to know this. It made
centuries of my life appear a farce, wasted time. Who cared about this
anymore? Maybe I was the only one left who had been clinging to the old
beliefs that long, maybe Isabella was right when she said that I could
not be the one to change my own rules because I could not see the
presence, but the past. Maybe I had been a fool.
She was looking at my diaries now, my precious Isabella, who was
making me proud and sad as well. I did not want to leave, but it was
time to go, wasn't it? I was old, and she was young, and she knew what
to do, how to lead the coven. She was capable. She could do this. And I
was no longer needed. Time to go, make room for the new Queen.
"I will leave tonight. I don't want to stay any longer." She gave me
a quick glance, surprise mirrored on her face, before she stood and
began to pace the room.
"You don't have to rush, I will not have you harmed if you stay for
some more time."
"No, it's not because of that. I simply want to go. There's nothing
left that could keep me here." The power would be hers, so why should I
spend one more hour trying to control and rule the coven when she would
be the one to benefit of the outcome, and not me myself? No, I would not
waste my energy on this. If she wanted to rule, she would have to do it
herself. There was nothing I could gain through staying here any
longer.
"Very well, it is your decision. I will not detain you, but are you
sure that you aren't rushing into this? Do you have any idea what will
expect you when you leave the coven?"
"No!" I gave her a bright smile. "That is what is so wonderfully new!
I don't know what will happen, I won't be able to plan anything.
Everything will be different, and new, and full of fascination. And the
thought of not being bound by any laws anymore is simply divine. That
must be what God had in mind for us when he created us. If he exists,
that is, but why should I care about that anymore?" Isabella looked at
me with a combination of horror and amusement.
"Santino, have you finally lost your mind? You should hear what you
have just said, it sounded as if you had gone insane!"
"Oh, but maybe I have, my darling, ma chere, wouldn't your
beloved Jacques call you that? Come, we have to plan my disappearing, I
want the coven to be completely confused! They shall talk of this in the
years, the centuries that will come! Never, never must they forget me,
and my mysterious disappearance." I felt so good! After so many years I
would start anew, would see what life had to offer for me. "Isabella,
don't you want to come with me?"
"And give all this up?" she shook her head, and I could see that she
was unsure what to do now that I was acting so strangely. "It is my turn
now to lead, and I will not let the opportunity pass."
"Whatever you want, Isabella." I turned serious again, and
concentrated on the immediate problems. The coven had to be convinced
that I was dead, or they would hunt me down faster than I would be able
to get out of their reach. But if they thought that Isabella had
anything to do with my death, they would not accept her. Our perception
of honor was a little twisted sometimes, but murdering one of our kind
was strictly forbidden, especially if the victim was the coven master.
It would be necessary to fool them, to confuse them so they did not know
what exactly had happened.
I reached out for Isabella's hand, the first time I had ever touched
her. She was warm, had hunted tonight, and her palm was smooth and dry.
No blood sweat. Admirable control of herself.
"What do you want?" She turned to face me, and drew her hand
back.
"A marvelous ending, Isabella, that's all I ask of you. I want to
disappear mysteriously, and in a hundred years I will listen to the
tales of my vanishing, and laugh at the short-sightedness and stupidity
of those who did not realize what took place."
The End
