The world that had been ruled by humans.
I searched through the pages for more than an hour, gobbling up the information on them like a caterpillar gobbled up leaves, furthering my metamorphosis; Sibold often said that knowledge and experience shaped us into who we were, defined our beliefs, and I felt like I was being shaped even as I read those pages, something growing, transforming within me. I found with every page that I turned, and every word that I read, I became more and more confused, until I wasn’t sure which way was up, and which way was down, though it wasn’t a confusion that I disliked, because it was causing my mind to work; I was doing the forbidden – thinking. It didn’t make sense, the words on the pages, no matter how hard I thought.
How could there have been a war that was “civil”, and how could slaves ever become free?
“Master,” Sibold was reading a book opposite me, sitting on a plush, leather green chair, when I spoke, stopping in the middle of a paragraph, no doubt pulling him from one as well, “I don’t understand.”
Sibold kept his nose in the book for a moment, but I could see a hint of his smile over the top of the pages as his eyes narrowed in amusement. “Oh?” he asked as his dark eyebrows raised, his voice more smug than I’d ever heard it, as if my confusion were humorous – and it probably was, because I had a feeling that he’d wanted me to be confused, that he’d wanted me to read this book for a specific reason. “What is it that you don’t understand?”
It seemed that Sibold was testing me.
Honestly, I didn’t understand anything about the book, but I didn’t want to tell him that. Sibold had been so kind, teaching me how to read, that I didn’t want to dishonor him in any way because I was confused, because I couldn’t figure out what the words I was reading meant.
“Well...” I tried to keep my eyes focused on the floor, but they floated up towards Sibold until I was staring at him – not (somewhat) sneakily glancing, as I had been before; I took a few seconds to note how beautiful he was, as most the vampires were, “concerning the slaves...” I swallowed thickly saying the word, but he didn’t appear to mind; some Masters didn’t like their slaves using that word, thinking that in using it casually they would begin to no longer identify themselves with it, “why is it that only some humans were slaves before, and not all of them?”
Sibold’s book was gingerly placed on his lap as he sighed, brushing the brown hair from his face so that I could get a better glimpse of his mesmerizing eyes. I sat in my seat, quite unable to breathe as he looked back at me. “Why indeed, Juliet?” he asked as his gaze roamed to the book sitting before me, and then traveled back to me, causing a shiver to echo up my spine. “What is your opinion concerning this?”
I bit my lip as I finally looked down, tearing my gaze from Sibold – a hard thing to accomplish – feeling embarrassed because I’d been staring at him for longer than a few moments; this really was unacceptable, but I was beginning not to care, something dangerous for a human slave.
What was my take on it?
To tell the truth, I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about the information contained within the book. Being a slave myself, it was frowned upon to think of freedom, or of history – or of anything, for that matter – so I had never really given deep thought to the idea that humans could be free; I wanted it but the rules had kept me barred, thinking only slipping in between the cracks, haunting my dreams at night, taunting my mind during the day.
Freedom was unheard of in this time. All of the humans were slaves now, not only the humans who had a particular shade of skin.
It really didn’t make any sense.
Why would one human ever think they were better than another human? The vampires were above us, but they were another race – similar to humans in some ways, but oh so different in others.
The vampire society had no rules regarding treatment of other vampires as lesser, aside from their caste system, which focused solely on blood and power; skin color was of no consequence. Sibold’s best friend L’Hier had dark skin, an enchanting shade that complemented his equally enchanting personality, but not one vampire treated him any different than the other Purebloods...except perhaps Sibold or his father, but that was only because Elisi Seven was so large, and they ruled it (power); vampires were well known for being prideful and power hungry, more than willing to bow down to those who were ‘above’ them if it would elevate their status in the system – or if it would spare their life later on down the road. And Emma, my closest friend save Luke, wasn’t treated any differently than I was, and she had skin that was nearly the same shade as L’Hier.
I frowned as I thought this, Emma’s face appearing in my memory, her kind eyes tired, yet warm and excited; she was a joy to be around, and I could confide anything in her, and she in me. It had been quite awhile since I had seen her or L’Hier, since they had visited Sibold and I at the Manor.
“Juliet,” I jumped another time when I heard Sibold’s voice, the book falling from the table as I brushed it with my arm in my scare, hair falling into my face when I bowed my head, coating it in red locks, somewhat hiding my embarrassment; Sibold preferred that I keep it down, instead of tying it into a bun, as some of the human slaves were required to do. I blushed, embarrassed and ashamed that I hadn’t been paying attention. “Are you quite alright?”
My shoulders stiffened when I answered, bending down to get the book, glad my face was hidden behind my wild, nearly untamable hair. “Yes, Master, I’m alright. I was only...” I paused, wondering if I should say it or not, “...thinking,” my shoulders hunched this time as I said the word, feeling fear slither through my veins, competing with my blood for room.
Sibold had never hurt me before, and I didn’t think that he ever would...but I’d been thinking. What would he say concerning that?
I didn’t want him to ever hate me – or to dislike me, even.
Just thinking about it made me want to die.
But at the same time I liked having my own thoughts, and I hoped that Sibold would respect that, considering that he’d been the one to begin teaching me in the first place; I knew he was a vampire, but he was nothing like his father or the others.
Sibold didn’t move, remaining still as a statue; I didn’t have to look his way to know this, as I was extremely aware of what he was doing at the moment, the fear still lingering, though if he were to move it would have been much too quickly for me to react in time. “Thinking?” he asked as I recovered the old book from the floor and sat back down, shrinking in my seat. There was a moment of silence, unbearable, before he told me: “An acceptable pastime,” I could hear the laugh in his voice when he said it, though it was quiet, barely there. “So, did you come to a conclusion? Did you decide what you thought of the slaves?”
My heart lightened when I heard this.
He wasn’t angry. Perhaps I should have given him more credit, but I had been taught to be afraid from the moment that I had stepped into the Manor – not by Sibold, but by his father.
“Yes,” I wondered if Sibold knew what was brewing in my mind as I looked him full in the face, not caring if I was punished for it later on, not caring if his father were to step into the room and seize me; something about his agreement with my questioning gave me strength. If I was going to start thinking, I might as well break a few other rules as well, even if it was only around Sibold. “I don’t think there should have been any slaves. I think everyone should have learned to get along, and treat one another as equals.”
According to the book, the humans of the past eventually had learned to live in peace; it had taken them quite a long time, unfortunately.
So why couldn’t we learn to do the same? If the slaves from hundreds of years ago had fought for their freedom, then why didn’t we? What was wrong with the idea of a world where vampires and humans could live together, in peace?
Was it wrong to wish for such a thing?
Part of me said yes, it was wrong. That was what I had been told for so long, had
been led to believe was true: vampires ruled, and humans did not, and things could never be any different; it wasn’t allowed. We will never get along, they had told me. Humans will never be anything but dirt, rats, slaves...
But.
Part of me thought that, no, it wasn’t wrong to want something more than the life that I had, the life that the slaves lived. It wasn’t wrong to want peace between our races, to want freedom for everyone, a chance to shape the future – together. It wasn’t wrong to want to be more than just a tool for blood.
There must have been more. There must have been a way to save everyone, to fight for what we believed in, to regain our sense of self, to share the planet.
I could have sworn that I saw Sibold’s eyes flicker then, the light of passion overcoming them as he watched my expression and the emotions hidden behind it – but that light was gone in a heartbeat. “I agree with you fully, Juliet,” he said as he smiled his tight smile, and my heart nearly stopped, his expression decidedly dangerous. “There shouldn’t be slaves.”
“We will be friends, you and I…
...And you will no longer have to be afraid.”
I can still see the dragon-man when I close my eyes, his hungry gaze threatening to devour me, the stench of his rancid breath reeking of metal – something I now understand to be the stench of blood. I can still see him bowing, his formal clothes rustling as his black eyes landed on Sibold, and he spoke formally.
“Ah, the young Master Delouge. What brings you here, My Liege?” he had spoken kindly to the newest guest of Miss Mercy’s Bright as I’d poked my head out from behind the settee, staring at Sibold with large eyes, not quite sure what to make of him.
He had stared back at me, hazel gaze lingering on what could be seen of my form, not even flinching as I’d glared at him, ignoring the dragon-man completely. I hadn’t wanted any more guests in the house right then – especially ones who were called ‘My Liege’. I’d wanted everyone to leave Miss Mercy, my parents and I alone. I had wanted to go back to talking together, drinking the special drink that Miss Mercy termed “hot cocoa”; vampires gained no nourishment from human food, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t like the taste of it, though they much preferred the taste of blood, naturally.
I had wanted things to be normal, though they never were again – from that moment onward.
“Greetings, Cornelius, so nice to see you,” the vampire I would come to call Sibold had smiled a tight, fake smile as he had closed the door behind him, brushing the ‘snow’ off of his jacket, blocking the chilling wind from entering the Bright. He had finally looked away from me then, much to my relief, as he’d turned to the dragon-man, who had straightened, gaining an almost regal appearance that hadn’t fooled my six-year-old self for one moment; I’d known he was a cruel man. “I have been told that Miss Mercy recently acquired new...humans...and I had wished to see if I could find suitable birth parents for my…” he’d appeared slightly embarrassed then, though I don’t think anyone but me had noticed; he’d sighed, finishing with: “servant.”
The dragon-man had smiled toothily, making me shiver, though my hatred for him had burned. “Slave, you mean, Master Delouge?” he had inquired in an almost amused tone; I had been confused by his words, not understanding the fact that I would become a slave quite yet. Sibold’s hazel eyes had narrowed ever so slightly when the dragon-man had said ‘slave’, but no one mentioned it, even him. “I am here for the same reason you are, My Liege, scoping parents,” he had laughed in a hearty way as he’d lied, glancing slyly at me, as if Sibold hadn’t noticed my presence.
Of course, Sibold had known it was a lie. We all had.
The dragon-man had come for me.
“Searching for parents, as well?” no amusement had been present in Sibold’s voice when he’d spoken next, only cold iron, matching his expression, which had sent chills running through me – some that I had recognized, and some that I hadn’t. “I see. Well then, I suppose I will simply take this girl,” he’d indicated me, and the dragon-man’s eyes had widened in disbelief. “That way, I’ll have no need to wait for my servant,” his smile had grown almost smug – a small, private sort of smug – as his hazel eyes glinted in challenge. “Unless, of course, you wished to obtain her?”
The dragon-man had simply laughed a low, nervous laugh as he’d shook his head, appearing rattled by Sibold’s words. “Oh, no,” he had said as he’d begun to inch towards the door, grabbing for his coat, suddenly appearing smaller. “Of course you may have her, Master Delouge. I was only scoping, as I said,” his mouth had turned into a scowl as he’d opened the door, causing the ‘snow’ to float in, landing on the floor in a flurry of flakes. “Enjoy your slave.”
And just like that the dragon-man had vanished, the door closing heavily behind him, causing me to relax a bit.
Sibold had sunk into one of the chairs that lined the fireplace as Miss Mercy had rushed to get him a cup of tea, which he had kindly thanked her for, and my parents had shrank into the background, bowing their heads in reverence. I had remained behind the settee, not quite as alarmed then, keeping my large eyes focused on our visitor, the vampire with such authority.
I hadn’t understood then who he was, or why he was so important, but I’d known that he had come to Miss Mercy’s to take me away, just as the dragon-man had, so I hadn’t liked him; I’d known that.
And I’d also known that I wasn’t afraid.
Chapter Four
Sometimes I gain a few moments to myself to reflect on my life – though I try not to reflect on anything, since humans aren’t supposed to think; normally, I read one of the “fiction” books that Sibold allows me, which often talk about life in the stars, on other planets, my favorite things to read. But after what had happened in my learning session, I was focused on thinking.
My thoughts came quickly as I rushed down the hallway at a pace that I didn’t normally tread, keeping my gaze somewhat focused upwards to a degree where, should I meet a vampire, I wouldn’t be scolded, but enough that my gaze was pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable, and what wasn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about Sibold’s words, about the book, about the war – and, most of all, about freedom.
Was it really possible? And what was Sibold’s real reason for bringing the truth of the past, and the possibilities, to my attention? What did he mean for me to do? What was his objective in all of this?
I didn’t feel quite sure of anything as I rounded a corner, dodging a maid, who had her fangs plunged into the wrist of her slave, a young boy who looked as though he may drop at any moment, and cease to live; the maid would have hardly cared if he did, since he was expendable, a truth that was easily evident in the way that she held onto his arm tightly, in the way that she was quickly draining him of life.
The sight of the maid drinking from the boy stirred something within me as I began to step past her, igniting anger because of the way that she was treating her slave. Maybe it was the newfound possibility, the idea of freedom that was circling through my mind – or maybe it was the fact that she was being particularly harsh – but whatever it was it caused me to stop, and before I knew what I was doing, I pulled the child away from her, the boy crying out as her exacting fangs were torn from his skin.
The boy stumbled back and into my arms as the gravity of the situation, the weight of what I had just done, became real to me, and I opened my mouth to speak, hearing the maid’s feral snarl as she turned towards me, her blood-dripping fangs bared in anger and resentment; it didn’t matter to her that I belonged to Master Sibold – I could see it in her eyes, in the way that she hunched forward, transforming into a monster.
The fresh bite mark on my own wrist, the opposite side as that morning, burned as if alive as I looked into the maid’s eyes, feeling my heart ache with foreign emotion. I hadn’t pulled the boy away because she was drinking his blood – Sibold had recently drunk mine, and I hadn’t protested; they were vampires, and would die without it, I couldn
’t remember that enough – I’d pulled him away because she was being cruel, wasn’t treating him as a living being.
That was wrong, I realized now; Sibold had never treated me that way, even when his father, Master Delouge, had commanded him to. I was beginning to see that there were two types of vampires, two ways that humans and the Vampoli could exist – the vampires like Sibold treated humans with respect, despite the fact that they fed from them…but vampires like this maid treated them as nothing more than nourishment.
I realized then, staring into the maid’s black eyes as she advanced, that the emotion I felt directed towards her was pity, because she would never know the relationship with her slave that Sibold knew with me, and her slave would never have a Mistress that wanted any semblance of a relationship.
Maybe that was the thing that could save the humans, and enlighten the vampires – relationships.
“How dare you, human!” the maid hissed, her expression becoming ugly as she stepped forward, her fists clenching, claws appearing where her nails were previously; this was one difference between the Lowerbloods and the Purebloods – the purer the blood, the more the vampire resembled a human, though they were much more powerful than one, whereas the Lowerbloods were weaker than Purebloods and adopted animalistic traits when they became angry, or whenever their emotions became unruly; the vampires of course valued their human appearance – humorous, since they viewed humans as slaves.
I took a step back, fear gripping me as I shoved the boy behind me, shielding him from the maid; she saw this and growled, stepping forward again as the boy clung to me, weak. “I – I’m sorry, but you were—” I took a deep breath, trying to decide what would be the best way to relay to her my fears for the boy in a way that wouldn’t cause her to harm me; I may have belonged to Sibold, but I had wronged a Mistress, and she wouldn’t be faulted if she attacked me…so long as no permanent damage was done. I let out the breath slowly, proceeding in a calm manner, hoping to spread the calm to her as she stopped, watching me curiously, noting the change. “You were harming him, Miss, and I wasn’t sure if you were aware of it in your hunger,” I said, causing some of the maid’s anger to abate, though she far from relented.
The Legend of Juliet: Part One (A Vampire Dystopia) (Finding Freedom Novellas) Page 3