The Rose

We’re a second in time,
We’re the last in the line,
Of the prey that walks the earth,
Good and evil combined.
Memento Mori, Kamelot

Aeydi Larein was frightened.

Scratch that. Aeydi Larein did not get frightened. She got… Perhaps the word for it was concerned. Yes, that described precisely what she was feeling. Concerned, and just a little nauseous. Frightened, however… No. That was one word on a long list that no one could ever use in reference to her.

Aeydi Larein had lived for four centuries, two decades, and six years more. She was half-nymph, half-vampyre, and as such, would be young for as long as she lived. This combination of blood gave her not only an extended lifespan, but beauty, lightning reflexes, seamless, fluid movements, and a fixation with the deep red life-nectar which spilled from the veins of most creatures.

Her parents had raised her in a dark, isolated part of the Aldaria Forest. Populated areas were out of the question, as Aeydi would have been in unspeakable danger. Some mixed breeds were accepted in the world. Elves, for example, did not enjoy the prospect of their blood being mixed with anything they considered less than noble- that is to say, anything not an elf. However, they would accept it, not kill it. Vampyres and nymphs were different- they were enemies, and always had been, due their shared trait- narcissism. This caused them to detest anything that could rival their beauty. As such, the two races had hated each other from the day they arrived on Saerelia- they always killed each other any time the opportunity arose, and destroyed immediately any who dared to mix their blood, as well as their resulting children.

Aeydi’s vampyre father had been a rare one. That of course translates to, he did not have the same diet as other vampires. He was one of the race that had managed to wean himself from blood. This made him weak, especially as opposed to the rest of his kind. Her mother was equally contrary to her blood kin. Most of them enjoyed the sight of their own blood running from their bodies. She, however, while just as attractive and graceful as other nymphs, believed the scars that came to line the bodes of those who would take blades to their own flesh to be disgusting.

As such, anyone would expect the child of the pair to be completely uninterested in blood. This was not to be the case. The double-impact racial instinct turned out to be far more powerful than the influence of her parents, and from a young age, Aeydi was mesmerized by blood- first her own, then that of animals, and finally, that of humanoids. After living for not quite a decade, Aeydi was taken under the wing of an Angyl of Death who had already lived for more than eight centuries, Alithar, after watching him make a kill. Her parents never knew where she went every day. As it were, she was learning to kill effectively. The War of Emerin began when Aeydi was just sixteen. Her parents were both killed by officials demanding more than the family could offer. If she hadn’t been with Alithar at the time, it’s likely that she could have saved them, but equally likely she would have chosen not to. Without them, she’d had no reason to stay in the forest any longer, and so went with the Angyl of Death.

Within a year, Aeydi knew all methods of murder, and could carry them out perfectly and with no hesitation, or even the slightest inkling of pity for her prey. And Alithar made sure she never lacked prey. On any given day, there were people who had somehow missed their appointments with death. That was where the Angyls of Death came in. It was their duty to do away with those who were meant to have died, and some trained assassins. Aeydi was much more than Alithar’s assassin, however. She was his lover.

Now, on this night, and several nights previous, Aeydi could feel something different about herself. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she knew it couldn’t be good. With a sigh, she flicked her cat-green eyes towards the body at her feet. This one had been more interesting than expected- he had run. He made it for awhile, but he was only a human, and his attempts to escape soon slipped away like the moon into dawn’s light. A quick bullet to the brain had done the job.

The girl kicked the body aside, and swung herself into the tree overhead. He had been her final kill of the evening, and she was now free to return to her lover.

“How was it tonight?”

“It was…” Aeydi hesitated, drawing her waist-length auburn hair behind her shoulder. “It was just as it has been on the most recent nights. I felt no thrill of the kill. I wasn’t tempted to not kill any of them… But the rush has disappeared, and the nausea right after remains.”

For a long time neither of them said a word. Aeydi was left staring at Alithar’s back, wishing he would turn around. His curtain of black hair which sprawled over his back was telling her nothing. If she could only see those gray eyes, she would know what he was thinking. She had seen those eyes fill with fury, with sorrow, with glee, and even with love, something his kind did not naturally feel. It took someone special to change the heart of an Angyl of Death.

“Aeydi… Please come here.” The Angyl of Death spoke in a subdued tone, as though his mind was elsewhere.

There was no possibility of disobeying him. No matter his feelings for her, this was a talk between master and assassin. The woman frowned, making her way over to him. She stopped only when he finally turned to face her, at which point they were close enough to touch. It was at that point she realized that perhaps this was not a talk between master and assassin at all, because his eyes revealed a something rare to him- a blend of love and concern.

“Meim srei raesa?”

The assassin’s eyes went wide, and though she wanted very much to speak, her breath had decided to catch in her throat.

“Do you?” Alithar stared at her, eyes unblinking, the emotion never changing. “It was perhaps four centuries and nearly a decade ago. I would not be surprised if you have forgotten.”

Aeydi squeezed her eyes closed, but still she felt the tears slipping down her cheeks. “Of course I haven’t forgotten.”

How could she have? The passage of time mattered not- Aeydi would never forget. When she was eighteen, on the night she’d been made his assassin and become his lover, Alithar had presented her with a long black rose, and said those same words in Arian. Meim srei raesa. Remember the rose. By that he meant one thing. ‘When I again present you with this rose, it will be time for you to stop. You will be my assassin no longer. You will simply be mine.’ She hadn’t dared to disagree. She hadn’t wanted to disagree.

“Aeydi…” Alithar was still watching her. “Are you ready?”

She wanted to say no. No, of course she wasn’t ready to stop. Killing was all she had ever known. But she would still have Alithar. And after all, it was because of Alithar that she knew how to kill, and it was for him that she had always done so. And it had been more than four centuries. It he felt it was time for her to discontinue the nightly bloodshed, how could she refuse him? The simple- and only- answer was that she couldn’t, because, when it came right down to it, she was his.

“I’m ready.” She paused, wanting horribly to look away from him. His eyes, though, hypnotic as they always had been, would not let her turn. “But… Alithar… Can’t you tell me…”

“Tell you why?” He interrupted. One of his hands came up and his thumb brushed gently over her cheek, removing what remained of her tears. “Aeydi, let me explain something to you. You’ve been with me for so long, and for that time I’ve asked you to kill for me nearly every night. At that same time, you have been with me in numerous other ways… Just there. And it takes someone talented to make an Angyl of Death feel the emotion known as love. To feel any emotion at all, really. You did that.”

The woman said nothing, simply listening.

“So don’t worry. I know… I know that I love you. And I just want you to stop killing because it’s dangerous.”

Here she was forced to say something. “Alithar, it’s always been dangerous. You’ve never once told me to stop until now. What do you know that I don’t?”

A smile spread over the face of the angyl. “I was getting there. Aeydi, any female assassin, no matter how ruthless she has always been, can change under the right circumstances. And all female assassins start to lose the love of the kill- start to become nauseous with the act, in fact- when there is something living and growing inside of them.”

The color drained from Aeydi’s face at these words. “Oh, no… Are you saying…”

“In roughly nine months we will have a child in our home.”

“By the gods… So you knew… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had a… Why don’t we say I just had a feeling? Now I’m positive. It’s time for you to stop killing.” Alithar’s eyes never left hers until he was forced to wrap her in his arms, pressed tightly to his chest. “Ah, so killing people has no effect on you at all, but this causes you to require me holding you up. How amusing.”

“Well I wasn’t really expecting to be informed that there is a new guest inside of me.” She looked up at him, nervously biting her lip. “This could get interesting, Alithar. A child with the blood of three very deadly races. As if I wasn’t enough to handle? See what you did?”

“We’ll be fine, Aeydi.”

Meim srei raesa.
Remember the rose.

Meim srei triarn.
Remember the thorn.

Meim srei enolia.
Remember the emotion.

Meim srei cetschia.
Remember the connection.

Neir freia yon hiara.
Never forget your heart.

excerpt of Selaria’s Song

Okay... I wrote this as a short story for my English class, and it spawned from something I'd been meaning to do for ages. That was to base a story on the Ozzy Osbourne song 'Shot in the Dark'. Judging from this, I'd say I failed. But it still came out pretty good.

I don't like it nearly as much anymore, now I've written so many better things, but some people seem to like it a lot, so all right...