Vampyre the graveyard se.., p.1
Vampyre: The Graveyard Series: Elizabeth's Journal, p.1Dawn And Josh Siewert
The Graveyard Series
Written by Dawn Siewert
Story by Dawn and Josh Siewert
Characters and original story created by
Jason Mancil, Joe Sousa, Dawn Siewert,
Josh Siewert, and Jennifer Mancil
Copyright 2015 by Dawn Siewert
This a draft copy. 8/15/2016
Northeast of Paris France
The Sixteenth of May, 1206
The Seventh Age of Vampyres
Elizabeth Isabella Rainia Augustus Demonte
Princess of Fleur Realm,
Châtelain of the Thyme Sage Gardens.
The mist swirls around our feet as we leap from the window. The grass cool, slippery; a sickly-sweet smell wafting through the air. I can feel Isobel's pulse racing as we grasp hands and take off across the inky castle grounds, just as we had many nights before. She keeps insisting we must get away, pulling my arm roughly towards a foggy darkness I could not see into.
I look back at the castle to bid a fare thee well, however the castle is a mere silhouette against the dark sky. I pause to ponder how we are moving unusually fast, when the earth abruptly begins to shift and tremble beneath my feet. I trip, feeling Isobel’s fingers slip from my grasp.
It takes Iso a few paces to realize I have fallen. When she looks back, her eyes enlarge with dread. Seven minuscule tears escape the corners of her blind eye. She begins shouting and pointing at something terrifying that is rapidly approaching, but with the wind howling through the trees, it muffles every sound her breath tries to carry to me.
She mouths, “I am sorry” before turning and running straight into welcoming arms of darkness, welcomes her with arms agape. I scream for her over and over but even with all that I possess, the words are carried away by the shrieking wind.
My legs sink deeper and deeper into the silty earth. The mud is starting to strangle my lower half, as if its arms that have a hold, pulling me deeper. The more I twist and pull, the better hold it gets on me, pulling me further down until I am completely submerged.
My screams and coughs startle me awake as I my mouth overflowed with dirt. No matter where my dreams begin they slowly but always devolve into this nightmare of losing my twin sister four years ago. My primary handmaiden Marie, is always right there by my side, strokes my long mahogany curls, and will sing the sweetest songs to lull me back to sweet dreams. But today is too crucial of a day to spend it resting, instead she assists me up, and begins to straightens my bed linens. She summons for my other maidens to begin preparing my bath, lay out my clothing, and ready me for the day ahead…
My last day, my last morning. Looking around at the ladies, each busy with their duties, I wonder will the night hold the same thrill as each morning does? The chirping choir of larks and warblers singing a wonderful melody during my morning customs. Are their singing night birds? I positively hope so.
My ladies, with the exception of Marie, will no longer be mine. They are to be reassigned various other Duchesses across the Realm. Not only am I losing my friends but they are also losing each other. Dorothea? Odette? Ingraine? Yvonne? Gisselle? They each have cared for me since my earliest of memories. They have tended to my every need and been with me through every tear, smile and heartache. The tears have been flowing freely since the last new moon. I am teaching them how to write so that we may send letters to each other and keep in contact once they are gone. Arthur explained that once I transition it is dangerous to have humans nearby out the risk of accidentally feeding on them. Marie has become special to me. She is truly my bosom friend. So father agreed to allow her to stay though until I gain control she will not be allowed alone with me. They do not want to take any chances I accidentally take a human life in my early life. Both Father and Arthur say it can change. It affects your soul and your humanity will never be the same.
My knight and blood sworn guardian, Arthur Phillippe LaQuiox, Kings Knight of Order Luna Fleur gave me this journal last evening during the celebration of my upcoming siring. It is tradition for those of my family to spend their last day prior to siring chronicling their life events. It is called a journal de mort and every King, Dauphine, Prince, and Princess of the Fleur Realm writes on the last day of their human life and then continues the journal after their live through their ascension. Arthur was given the task of gifting it to me last evening during my sixteenth natal day celebration. Father chose him because our bond is remarkably close. He has been with me since infancy and takes his blood oath seriously.
Many things are on the verge of changing. My days, up until this time, have been filled with quiet study, teas, long walks, strolling through the villages, drawing, archery and etiquette lessons. My nights spent playing games with Marie, needlepoint, sewing a new dress or reading quietly and only a few brief glimpses at the mystery. But soon I will be able to delve within the mystery that has been kept hidden in the depths of the night. Except for controlled events where Iso and I were paraded around like living dolls for the dignitaries and other noteworthy beings I have not experienced much of vampyre life. We were to remain as innocent as possible until after the siring. Our lives were kept in seclusion, as Father was always afraid someone was plotting to kidnap us. He would allow a few of his closest allies to spend time with us while they visited. They have allowed me the best glimpse of what my life is fixing to become.
I am to be sired by King Renate Udolf Twyford Clovis Lothar Demonte of the Fleur Realm Grand Duke to the Alliance of the Eventide. Those in his close inner circles call him Renee. Though he is not of my ancestral blood, he has always treated me as such and soon we will share a sanguine bond like no other.
Father has always been caring and gentle with Iso and me. He takes time each evening, for as long as my memory goes back, to come and spend some time with us. He would share exciting stories of the ages that came before and the legendary beings who fought dragons, slayed demons, saved the princess and sacrificed their lives. Whenever he travels abroad for urgent global matters or social obligations, he would return with gifts of trinkets, dolls, and dresses from Realms all over the world. My most treasured gift is a Sapphire Dragon egg jewelry box that he brought back from the Emu Realm when I was six. It is covered with intricate ivory filigree and inlaid in the filigree are seventy-three dainty rainbow jewels. On the top is a sizable violet princess cut alexandrite gem. Father brought one home for Iso that was slightly similar, only hers was an onyx dragon egg that hangs from a golden tree and the filigree was made with ivory.
Iso use to leave me secret messages in mine and I in hers. Most of the messages are silly little pictures, though looking back at them, I think she was trying to tell me something, though I cannot decipher the drawings. I study them each night before bed. Iso was unable to take her egg with her, so one morning after she left I snuck in and took it. I keep them together on my mantel. I still add tiny notes occasionally; in the hopes one day she will be able to read them.
When I become a Dauphine, I will rule as Father does, making all those below me not even aware when I command them to do my bidding, and they will follow my every bidding without complaint. I hope to learn how Father could let his hair down around those other would consider beneath a powerful King as himself and have them accept him as one of their own.
I have seen assassins, knights, soldiers, beasts, monsters, kings and Dauphines, try to get the upper hand, attempt to take what they thought could be easily acquired. Each one failed to see what was hidden behin
The beast blends into the darkness leaving just an outline in the sky. The screams of our knights, as the beast attacks them one by one. Arthur is trying to escape the carriage, but the beasts tail is holds the door tight. “He wants to save the tastiest morsels for last” I hear Arthur whisper. The next few moments became fuzzy as the carriage is flip, turned upside down, and as I was told later, Father arrived and yanked the beast away. The sounds of battle filled me ears as I clung to Iso in fear that this would be the end of our short life, we hear the howling of the beast’s heart being ripping out of its chest. The door is ripped off and there is Father, our protector and savior, lifting us up and out with ease. It is the first time I smelled blood and saw it as something not scary. Father was covered in the beast’s life force. Yet in his arms, in that moment I felt the safest I had my whole life. I knew he would always be there to protect me and he has since that day never allowed any harm to come to me.
He is a remarkable king and has ruled the Fleur Realm since 986AD. He was crowned after King Marcellus Martin Remus was beheaded for poisoning Dauphine Constantine. With all my years of studying the various lineages and histories of each Realm, I begin to wonder if I too will one day be but a few smudges on a piece of paper. Will I become a brief story to tell, like King Rolland? In our history books, No one knows what happened to him after the death of Dauphine Fleur during the Anarch War of 948. Some say he walked into the sunlight, slowly turning to ash, while others believe he still roams the lands, living eternally in solitude. I like to consider he slaughtered the men who raped his Dauphine then walked into the sunlight to be with her forever in the Umbra. Will I become but a few pages with no ending as well?
Curiosity got the better of me a few days ago, when I snuck away, to take a peek at the throne room where they had begun to set up for my siring. This is where my life will conclude and then begin anew. I needed to prepare myself, to see what awaited so that I would not be afraid of the unknown. The room has no windows and with it empty of bodies, it has a cold stark feel. There are only a few torches lit around the vast space that it is hard to make out much, except the cold hard slab of a stone, where many had been sired before me. I can hear whispers in the silence, assuring me to not be afraid.
I run my fingers over the runes carved into the slab of stone. I was unable to make out what they say, though I did recognize some of it to be written in the antediluvian language of Enochian. The runes are faded from centuries of rituals. Some more visible than others. Arthur told me before I saw them, that they provide protection and aid in the transition ritual. On the right side of the stone is a small divet in the stone. Here the stone is stained a dark red. I cannot feel the dried blood. It is as if the stone absorbed the blood. My blood will be added to this blood eating stone.
I hastily leave the room and run back to the safety of my bed. I do not think seeing the room helped my nerves much. I have felt anxious since that moment. I have had a few nightmares of the stone growing teeth and devouring me whole. Arthur says there is always some blood spilled during the ritual but if I do not resist, it will be painless and I will just drift to sleep. That he himself has witnessed the ceremony several times and never has it grown teeth and eaten anyone. But he tells me that when I wake tomorrow evening, I will metamorphosis; I will be stronger, faster, more perceptive. He says my emotions will come in giant spiraling waves during the first few days but will even out after and leave me in a higher state of being. I am ready. I want for the fire to consume me; to unlock all the secrets I hold in my long forgotten memories.
It is the secrets to my identity that has kept me held back. From the time I could form sentences I began asking questions of why and how we came to be here to live with these creatures of the night. Who is our human family and why do we not live with them? Arthurs tells me an identical story each time, and omits the same key information each and every time.
My human mother, Dauphine Isabella of Hainault, Dauphine Consort of France was a sweet, kindhearted, passionate young woman. She was ten when she married my human father, King Phillipe Augustus of France, of House Capet. She was loved by her subjects and always showed compassion to those below her, but things with Phillipe were difficult during the early years of their marriage. She had a difficult time conceiving an heir. Tensions built to a near explosive point, when called upon Arthur to mediate things. At this time, he was the liaison between the human nation of France and the Fleur Realm. He does not go into much detail on what he did, just that he was able to advise them to find the love that lived within their hearts. He said it just needed to be unlocked. Two months after Arthur visited, Isabella was with child and her bond with King Phillipe flourished. She was a flawless queen mother to Prince Louis. It is rumored that his lion heart comes from her. She spent time among the peasants, getting her hands dirty in the soil with the farmers. Arthur tells me she had a quick wit and was always smiling. She would tell him stories concerning her limited life before becoming queen. Arthur was an ally she would call upon for counsel routinely during her last five years. She came to Fleur Castle once to meet with Father, while he and King Phillipe discuss matters pertaining to the country.
In August of 1189, Dauphine Isabella became pregnant with Iso and I. It was a troublesome pregnancy from the start. She had to take to bed during her fifth month and King Phillipe stayed by her side through much of the upcoming three months. In Mid-March of 1190 she progressed into labor and began losing blood rapidly after I was birthed. Isobel was expelled in a river of fluids. It took many baths to clean her. Isabella gave her last breaths as the plasma flowed from her freely. Isobel use to whisper to me that it meant she was cursed. I tried to deny this but she was adamant, saying that she heard Arthur and Father talking about it one day. She feels it is why King Phillipe gave us up rather easily, he didn’t want the curse tarnishing his lineage. Iso was fond of saying “Has France not flourished since he gave us up?”
Arthur always told me that he was quite grief stricken over his queen’s death that just two days after our birth, He was able to sway the king with the promise of fortune, power and a legacy for my human brother, Prince Louis the VII, and was convinced to fake our death and tell the world on this day he lost his twin sons. King Phillip agreed and Arthur escaped through the cover of night.
During the travel back to the castle, just as the sun was cresting over the horizon they were attacked by shadow wolves. They were trying to take us, or kill us…
He was protecting me and with his skill and fortitude, he was able to keep me safe but with a mere scratch on my cheek The third man on Arthur’s team was the first to be attacked and had to be left for dead. Edward, Arthur's brother in arms, had Isobel and they were maimed with barbarian cruelty. One of the wolves got a hold of his arm and tore it clean off. Another devoured his foot, while slicing Isobel deep across her left eye. Arthur flings Edward and Iso over his horse and is able to flee into the castle gates. Our castle archers took out the remaining wolves.
The house mages tried desperately to heal Isobel’s eye but all of the magiks they tried, seemed to be absorbed into nothingness. Her eye was a black hole, which some theorized is a doorway into the Umbra. Sometimes when she would get angry, black veins would begin to spread outward from her eye. I never saw her do anything beyond that, but I think she was hiding her growing power from me, before she was banished.
Due to Edwards tutelage, I have become thoroughly proficient with the knowledge of every King, Queen, Lord, Lady and Duke's titles, rank, lineage and written details with respect to their lives. Arthur thinks this is useless knowledge to have. It is why we have librarians and libraries for, but I have often been able to impress thousand-year-old beings with anecdote in connection with something that happened centuries prior and spark a flurry of memories for them. I was paraded around the banquets and festivals, curtsying, flashing a coy smile, impressing them with my knowledge of their lands and culture. Isobel would attend only out of obligation and Father’s demands
Iso would rather slink and hide in the shadows, than play and play a role in the castle life as I did. She would tell me her concerns with the experiments they would do to activate her eye. Occasionally, I feel she made it up, as it just sounded too horrible. We do not live with monsters. I know they drink human blood and can kill and some do, but many, like father and those in the Fleur Realm, wish to protect humanity from those who wish to smite it. She would tell me how the mages would strap her modest body down to a table. They would use these clamps to hold her dark eye gaping, her eyelids rolled back, held opened and drop herbs, potions, and on occasion use corrosives into her eye, trying to activate the darkness. They theorized that it was a portal into the Umbra but they never could figure it out thus they eventually gave up. I heard whispers around the castle that they were waiting until she matured and allow it to happen naturally.
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