Chronicles of Darkness: Shadows and Dust

by Andrea F. Thomas

  "How did it happen anyway?" Andrej asked.

  Sadden sighed. "I played directly into Lilith's hands. Poor Madeleine. Lilith had promised the girl to make her one of us. According to the old laws, it is forbidden to transform humans and we both knew it. As Madeleine was standing in front of me, I could not withstand the calling of her blood. I saw the pulsing vein on her throat. The hunger overwhelmed me and gained control."

  Andrej swallowed hard upon hearing about the battle she had been fighting against herself. "I know how much this is tormenting you. Your sympathy for others is so strong. I know it breaks your heart every time you have to follow your urges. Sadden, you have more empathy than some humans."

  "It is a curse. In order to survive, I have to kill others. After every feeding, my conscience tortures me. I have been walking this earth many centuries. One should assume it would get easier for me as time goes by, but unfortunately, it is not."

  "I'm happy about it. Your conscience is what represents you," Andrej said, honest. "Your strong will to suppress your urges honors you and puts you above others."

  A weak smile appeared on Sadden's face. "Thank you, for trying to lift my spirits." Inside she knew that her friend's cheerful words would not change anything about her situation. Lost in thought, she regarded the burning fire.

  "What are you going to do now?" Andrej inquired. "I mean, concerning our guest?"

  Sadden was undecided. "Let us wait and see what time will tell. But I am certain of one thing. Lilith of the Dragon Clan will learn to respect humans." She made this promise to her friend, who nodded satisfied.

  "Alright. But, if nothing comes of it, we could always spank the spoiled brat to get her to behave," Andrej said cheekily, while keeping a straight face.

  A bitter laugh escaped Sadden at the thought of it. "I have to admit, this idea has crossed my mind as well."

  Andrej nodded in agreement. "I'm going to retire to my rooms, unless there is anything else I can do for you?"

  "No, thank you, Andrej. I can manage."

  Her friend went back inside the castle and the vampire's gaze returned to the funeral pyre. A lonely tear rolled down her pale cheek. "Now you are free, Madeleine. May your soul find the peace it deserves."

  CHAPTER TWO

  MEMORIES

  Morning broke, and the first light of the new day chased away the cold air of the past night. The town, Paris, awoke, to start its usual daily work.

  Only in one abandoned house, in the Quartier Latin, silence still reigned. The run-down building had once been a grand mansion. It surrounded a square courtyard, which was dark, due to the plants that had grown unimpeded. The palace had four floors and was in a disastrous condition. In many places the facade was crumbling and falling off the wet walls. The big windows had been nailed shut with boards, and heavy iron bars made sure that no unwanted visitor could enter. That was exactly what Chalice had wanted. For a very low price, she had rented the place for her Master.

  She stepped out of the plain back door and took a look around, making sure that nobody had noticed her presence. At this time of day, not one human soul lurked, in this secluded alley. She took one last searching glance at her present home, turned the rusty key to lock the door and put it under her cloak.

  Grumpy and tired, Chalice pulled the hood of her dark-green cloak over her head. "He's sleeping like a baby in his coffin, but I'm not allowed to get any rest. Day and night I'm out there, searching out new Angels for him. His absurd conditions don't make it any easier. Virgins, beautiful and noble they have to be. Pah, as if there are a lot of such girls around here. They can't be found like pebbles on a river shore. And then, I'm not allowed to have any fun at all. I'm not the one who will give us away. He will. With his special wishes! If our hunters figure out his pattern of prey, they will find us, and then we will have to flee, head over heels."

  After walking through some alleys, she came upon one of the new boulevards. These had been built by the king, instead of big fortification walls. The old night watchman extinguished the last street lamps, and Chalice watched the early hustle and bustle of the civilians of Paris. The first customers were already haggling with the merchants, and the traders showed off their goods from foreign and exotic countries. The maids and servants came from their villages, to sell or buy fresh fruits and vegetables on the daily market. Chalice picked up a red apple from one of the carts, and disappeared in the increasing crowd. Unimpressed, she walked among them, their voices buzzing muffled in her ears.

  "How I despise this town. I hate living here. I hate it!" Chalice growled, as she took a bite of the succulent, sweet fruit. „Of all places, why did we have to come back here?"

  The flow of the people led her directly to the Île de la Cité. For awhile, she stood at the bridge Pont Neuf, gazing thoughtfully at the dirty water that flowed beneath. Chalice became haunted by the horrible memories of her past...

  "Maman! Maman," screamed the six-year-old girl, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to glance over the railing of the bridge to the other side. Two policemen tore the rag-covered girl away. One of them picked her up, and Chalice was able to cast a glance to the embankment. Horror was evident in her innocent eyes, as the cruel image was forever burnt into her memory. Without any clothes, her young mother lay there in the mud of the Seine. Her bruised body was covered with numerous wounds, a tortured expression on her pale face.

  "Maman! Maman! I want my Maman!"

  But the policeman carried her out of view of the crime scene, and put her down on a bench next to his colleague.

  "What are we going to do with the little brat? Orphanage or workhouse?"

  "Neither. The little one has an aunt, Marie Colbert, she and her mother were living with. This woman also identified the body."

  "Do we know anything about how it happened?"

  Indifference was heavy in their voices. "Just the usual. It seems the prostitute got stabbed by one of her customers. So, no real case for us. She's going to be buried somewhere out of town, with the other poor people, since her sister doesn't want to spend any money for a real funeral. But, she can't refrain from taking in the girl. We are going to deliver the little one to her. Let the Colbert woman take care of the brat."

  Chalice was brought out of her apathy as the man grabbed her arm to drag her along. She started to fight him with all of her might. "No, no, no! I don't want to go to Aunt Marie! I want to see my Maman!"

  The officer became frustrated and roughly pulled her along the street. "Accept it! Your mother is dead! She's not coming back!"

  Turning her head again and again, the girl tried desperately to hang on to the picture of Pont Neuf that started to fade. "MAMAN!"...

  "No, I mustn't hold on to the past." Chalice shook her head to clear her mind. She turned around and leaned back against the railing. Regarding the cathedral of Notre-Dame, she said, scornfully, "Dedicated to our Blessed Virgin Mary, a monument of stone. Epitome of our Holy Mother Church. I spit on it!"

  The sun climbed behind the sacral building to take its usual place in the sky. Chalice closed her eyes to little slits, blinking in the bright sunlight. "Maybe I should go inside the cathedral, since I'm going to be Azrael's bloodmate soon. After that, I won't set one foot into this town, ever again."

  Optimistically, the young woman hurried along the street. Soon, she reached the big plaza in front of Notre-Dame. On the stairs, she slowed the speed of her steps. Confidently, she entered through the middle portal, underneath the big Sainte Chappell Stained Rosary.

  The street noise faded immediately and a feeling of uneasiness overcame Chalice. She strode through the empty rows right to the high altar. The sheer size of the room intimidated her. Her foot-steps echoed mercilessly through the high room, and she looked around distrustfully, but only some church servants were present. They didn't seem to notice her. Chalice's concentration returned to the altar room. Sunlight fell through the big, gothic windows, creating a fascinating play of colors with the Christian motive
s they held. She couldn't deny the awe-inspiring beauty of the building. This feeling fled soon enough, and a tremendous, long accrued hatred awoke instead. She stood in front of the altar cross, and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Who allows that you are given such magnificent buildings?"

  Chalice hesitated and listened, as if she was waiting for an answer. Then she continued furiously, "What are you doing for us to deserve such glamour? You left me all alone! A child! You left me to cruel fate..." Exhausted, she slumped on the steps in front of the altar and sobbed. "That's just not right."

  Concerned, one of the church servants came over, wanting to assist her in getting up.

  Chalice mood swung again, and she was overcome with fear. "W-What am I doing here?" she whispered confused. She became aware of the sexton and shouted, "I'm not a slave to your belief! I know the truth!" Chalice's body was trembling. She grabbed the terrified man's robes and pulled him towards her. "The people think they are obliging him with absolute humility, but they are just stupid to submit to his rule!"

  Whispering and with eyes wide open, she added, "Isn't that madness?"

  The fear in the man's eyes increased, as did unbelief about what she had said. "That's opprobrious blasphemy, Mademoiselle! Please, consider your words. Otherwise, I will be forced to inform the bishop about this incident."

  Chalice chuckled and her laughter echoed hundredfold throughout the nave. "I'm not scared of you. Not anymore. I'm far above you ignorant people, looking down on you with great disdain. Do you hear me, God? Do you hear my words? I hate you! I hate you deadly!"

  Dismayed, the sextons were crossing themselves. Then something unbelievable happened. The elaborated picture of Mary and her child fell down. Its frame split, as it came to rest on the altar slab.

  Shocked, Chalice leapt up, staring at the perfect face of Mary, while the servants ran around, headless. Chalice's tormented soul stirred in her heart, and she retreated slowly. Searching for help, she looked into the eyes of the closest sexton, but he only said, "That's a sign from our Holy Mother of God!"

  Chalice's breathing increased, and she felt like a trapped animal. Scared, she turned around and fled the church in a hurry, not looking back.

  Breathing heavily, she stumbled on the steps. She didn't notice the scratches and bruises the fall had caused. "I've left my old life behind me. How could this incident affect me so? I have to get myself together." Painfully, she grasped at her heart. "Why does it hurt so much? I don't want to feel the pain. Never again." Under the watchful eyes of some civilians, she got up and left the Île de la Cité.

  Lost in heavy thoughts, Chalice reached one of the poor quarters of Paris. The alleys became more angled. They were no longer paved, but dusty and dirty. An unbearable stench floated up from the waste water canals, between the tiny huts. With difficulty, she walked past the Clochards and day laborers, refraining from making direct eye contact with the beggars. They reminded her of her harsh childhood and that touched her painfully. "Why do I always have to do the dirty work for the fine Monsieur?"

  Chalice was abruptly brought out of her self-pity by three little girls with dirty faces, who were playing and singing a tune she was very familiar with. "Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques..."

  The young woman stared at the children, without intention, and the peaceful picture started to fade, only to be replaced by a strict, female voice, which called out to her...

  "Chalice! Have you been stealing apples at the market again?"

  Caught off guard, Chalice turned around. "Maman?"

  But, in front of her was a stocky, middle-aged woman with wrinkled hands and face, a tell-tale sign of years spent at hard labor. "You useless brat. How often did I tell you not to get caught? One day, you are going to end up in prison! Maybe I should be glad about that. Then you wouldn't cause any more trouble for your uncle and me. Sighing, she shook her head and went back to her work, washing clothes.

  Chalice followed her to the cramped, dark backyard, saying in a small voice, "I'm sorry, Aunt Marie."

  Unimpressed, her aunt scrubbed some sheets over the washboard and continued nagging. "Kind like I am, I took you in, even though we don't have enough to eat for ourselves, and what do I get in return? I only get small thanks, because you can't even steal well! Célestin really left me a great inheritance. Good for nothing!"

  The harsh words of her aunt made the girl sad. "Aunt Marie."

  "Quit your whining! Go and do something useful. You know what will happen when your uncle comes home and hears about your mishap."

  The little girl swallowed hard and thought about the leather belt, and the beatings she received on her naked back.

  Marie pushed her to the street and ordered, "You've got a pretty face. Use that. Go to your cousins at the boulevard. Help them begging. And don't you dare come back without some money!"

  The years of Chalice's childhood went by, always in the same rhythm. She hardened and submitted to her fate. As she became older, Chalice needed to find another way to earn money. In her situation there was only one way to accomplish that...

  It was one of those cold and wet autumn nights, and Chalice had just turned thirteen, but nobody remembered, least she herself. Covered with a threadbare cloak, she strode through the dark alleys, always looking for work. Sniffling and coughing, she ran into a tall man, who was completely wrapped in dark clothes. Only his eyes could be seen. That was Chalice's fatal meeting with Azrael, the vampire.

  "Looking for a little intimate satisfaction?" Provocatively, she lifted her shabby dress, revealing the naked lower part of her body.

  Frowning, Azrael scrutinized the small, ill-looking form. "Whore, you may cover yourself. There is nothing I want from you." He turned away and added, "Besides, you stink to the high heavens, and you look like you are spreading sicknesses around."

  Faced with the man's blasé attitude, Chalice became angry. "Hey, you! I have to make a living somehow! Some pompous, rich bastard, like you are, wouldn't understand that, of course!"

  Azrael wasn't impressed in the slightest, and he continued his nightly walk.

  Fuming, Chalice followed him. "All of my life, I've been rejected one way or the other. Do you honestly think I'm going to let myself get belittled by an arrogant asshole like you?" Defiantly, she waited for the man's reaction.

  He actually stopped walking. "Beware, little girl! You are trying my patience, greatly, and I don't want to waste my precious time with a hussy like you!"

  Chalice hesitated for the blink of an eye. "Then what are you looking for, here in this bad part of the town? What kind of dark business led you here?"

  Azrael turned towards her. "I'm warning you, if you are going to continue questioning me, I will end this conversation right now. In a deadly way for you."

  Suspicious, the girl looked at Azrael. "So, you are one of those perverts that kill helpless women?" Without feeling, Chalice added, "If that's the fact, I don't care."

  Surprised, the vampire gazed into her empty eyes, void of the familiar vividness of the humans, and he thought, No spark of life or will is illuminating her weak heart. Only pure hatred exists inside. Never before have I seen a nearly soulless heart. It fascinates me greatly. Will I be able to extinguish the human soul completely, without ripping it from her body through death? I want to see how she turns into my tool. Out loud, he said, "You will submit to a dangerous game, but your reward will be incomparable. If you surrender unconditionally, I will make all your wishes come true, and you will get the life you deserve."

  Azrael's engaging offer had the desired effect. Chalice became a willing prisoner in his world...

  Suddenly, Chalice was brought out of her thoughts by the loud screaming of a man. "The bull got loose from the wagon's chain! Get to safety!"

  The wild, enraged animal stomped ahead at full speed, directly towards the group of playing girls. Two of them found shelter in another alley. Frightened, the last girl froze, directly in the path of the aggressive bull.

  Without thinki
ng, Chalice dashed to the girl, picked her up and pressed her against the house wall, shielding her with her body. As soon as the danger had passed, she put the girl down and knelt before her. "Are you alright?"

  "Thank you, thank you, Mademoiselle! You just saved my life!" Then the girl noticed the expensive dress beneath Chalice's cloak. "You are a real princess, aren't you? I would like to be a fine, noble lady, such as you are."

  Chalice shook her head sadly. "Be grateful that you are not." She gave the girl a golden coin and got up. As the young woman left, the girl called after her, "May God always protect you, Mademoiselle!"

  *****

  Careful not to cause any noise, Skylar opened the big door and peered through the little crack into the darkened room. Slowly, she stepped inside, tiptoed barefooted to the bed and gently brushed the bed's silky curtain aside. Grinning wildly, she looked at the big lump beneath the covers. Quietly, she crept to the window and with a mighty pull on the string, she opened the drapes. Immediately the bright sunlight of the new day flooded into the room.

  "SOL INVICTUS," screamed the blond girl at the top of her lungs. She jumped onto the bed. "Wake up, dear brother! Come on, sleepyhead! If you were a vampire, I would have killed you by now."

  A head with long, dark and disheveled hair, worked its way from beneath the covers. Finally, Kyrian's sleepy face appeared. Still tired, he rubbed his eyes and blinked in the sunlight at his sister, who was beaming at him, happily. He stretched and yawned. "Well, then I'm really glad that I'm not a vampire. Oh Skylar. Mighty huntress of the honored Leosol family."

  "Now that's a sound for sore ears. You may continue singing my praises." Skylar giggled, striking a graceful pose.