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cloversworldI keep forgetting to post this. This is halfway written. Wondering if I should continue.
[NIGHTQUEST] Book1: Night in the City of Angels, Prologue
American Idol, David C./ David A | Kris A./ Adam L., NC-17 (for the entire fic)
Disclaimer: This is just fiction, none of the contents are real. I do not own the characters and the concept used in this story. No profit was made.
A/N: Written in 3rd person POV omniscient. Not beta'ed.
For more info: MASTER POST
Prologue:
The wind swept past him, whipping against his face while he dashed between the trees and along a narrow path. Dave ignored the chill that clung on his skin, ignored the sharp pull of his leg muscles. He just kept running and running and running… away from the truth, away from the pain.
Too afraid to stop. Too afraid that the harsh reality might catch up and he'd find himself falling in the deepest, darkest pit of misery.
The anger, the hurt coursing rapidly through his body reverberated in the air like an unleashed force that soon spiraled toward the sky. Lightning cut across the cluster of dark gray clouds in response and a loud crack of thunder rolled in not long after – an echo of the anguish that burned deep into his soul.
Rain began to pour heavily around him, mimicking the tears that spilled incessantly out of his eyes. David Cook stopped – finally – at a clearing lined with Sycamore trees half a century old. He sank to his knees, unable to feel his legs anymore. His hands splayed on the muddy ground.
He'd been running through the forest for hours. And hours. Trying to escape the bitter reality. But he knew there was no way to break away from the harsh truth. His brother was gone, murdered by the very abomination he feared he would someday become.
If only he'd arrived sooner. If only he'd gone after the vampire clan leader in Adam's stead.
If only.
If only.
But he had no space left in his heart for regrets.
The thought consumed him, causing the pain – physical and emotional – even harder to bear. He brought his hand against his side, clutching at the spot near his ribcage where the vampire called Constantine had plunged a dagger deep into his flesh.
Dave knew he had to pull himself together if he were to find the vampire – the betrayer responsible for his brother's death, to find the vampires that attacked the small village in Kansu where several Carpathian families lived, killing a hundred or more of his people – men, women and children alike. To do that, he must first mend his broken body. He must first heal his wound.
For one hundred years, he'd walked the earth, his soul bound to the pulse that throbbed beneath his feet. "The earth is our mother," his mom, Beth, had once told him when he was a child. "She possesses life-giving energy that may help ease any discomfort."
His mother's words lingered around his head while he let the ground claim him. As soon as half of his body was buried in the soil, Dave began to chant. Words spoken in the ancient tongue that his race used in rituals spilled from his mouth. He could feel the earth's energy flowing through him, could feel the ache coursing through his body gradually subside.
Without the distraction of the physical pain, the thoughts that he managed to push away earlier came thundering in his head.
Adam was gone. As tradition went, he was next to the leadership throne. "You're a prince by blood," his mother had been reminding him over the years. But Dave had dedicated his life to hunting vampires, to protect the innocents from the dangers that the undead brought. He, along with other hunters, had vowed to rid the world of the growing threat of darkness. He was, to his mother's disapproval, a hunter by heart.
Hours passed and daylight rolled in. Dave remained immersed in the ground – under the canopy of the trees, safely hidden from the scorching glow of the sun. His mind wandered, sinking deeper into contemplation, while his body rejuvenated.
A prince by blood. His mother's words echoed in his head. Dave knew it was a huge responsibility. Not that he doubted he couldn't handle it, but he feared failure.
His race was on the brink of extinction. Carpathians might live a hundred – some even thousands of years, but few Carpathians had been born over the last five centuries. Many of his people had been left without lifemates – the light to their darkness, the other half of their soul. Without lifemates, some surrender to the darkness and become the undead and some chose to end their life in peace.
Now that the vampires had taken more of his kind, Dave's apprehension grew. Shadows crept perilously into his soul. He worried about his friend, Daughtry, whose lifemate had been one of those that the vampires had killed.
The thirst for revenge pulsated in his veins, incessantly gnawing underneath his skin.
The next time Dave opened his eyes, orange streaks stretched across a veil of light gray and darkening blue. The wind blew east, coaxing the trees to sway in the same direction. In a heartbeat of silence, Dave heard footsteps approaching. He caught the familiar scent even before his friend spoke.
"Don't mean to intrude, mate," Michael said, pausing beside one particularly old tree. The fading glow of the sunset cast murky shadows around him. "Lee and Taylor had tracked the vampires to the bordering mountains of Canada. Jason had been able to gather enough hunters to follow them. They're just waiting for your orders."
Dave offered no response. Words seemed heavy on his tongue.
"Dave?"
"I'll go with them." Dave climbed out of the ground, with his wound healed and his heart less heavy. "Where's Daughtry?"
"Burying Deanna" was Michael's contrite response, his eyes downcast. And I'm afraid with her, he's likewise burying his heart, Michael added in thought.
Dave welcomed the link, now that his mind was open to his friend. Let's leave him to his grief, Dave sent out his own thoughts. For now.
They were near the edge of the forest and Dave could hear the hunters – his brothers chanting:
'Veri isäakank- veri ekäakank. 1
Veri olen elid. 2
Andak veri-elidet Karpatiiakank, és wäke-sarna ku meke arwa-arvo, irgalom, hän ku agba, és wäke kutni, ku manaak verival. 3
Verink sokta; verink kaŋa terád. 4
Akasz énak ku kaŋa és juttasz kuntatak it.' 5
=======
Translations:
1 Blood of our fathers-blood of our brothers.
2 Blood is life.
3 We offer that life to our people with a blood sworn vow of honor, mercy, integrity and endurance.
4 Our blood mingles and calls to you.
5 Heed our summons and join with us now.
[NIGHTQUEST] Book1: Night in the City of Angels, Prologue
American Idol, David C./ David A | Kris A./ Adam L., NC-17 (for the entire fic)
Disclaimer: This is just fiction, none of the contents are real. I do not own the characters and the concept used in this story. No profit was made.
A/N: Written in 3rd person POV omniscient. Not beta'ed.
For more info: MASTER POST
Prologue:
The wind swept past him, whipping against his face while he dashed between the trees and along a narrow path. Dave ignored the chill that clung on his skin, ignored the sharp pull of his leg muscles. He just kept running and running and running… away from the truth, away from the pain.
Too afraid to stop. Too afraid that the harsh reality might catch up and he'd find himself falling in the deepest, darkest pit of misery.
The anger, the hurt coursing rapidly through his body reverberated in the air like an unleashed force that soon spiraled toward the sky. Lightning cut across the cluster of dark gray clouds in response and a loud crack of thunder rolled in not long after – an echo of the anguish that burned deep into his soul.
Rain began to pour heavily around him, mimicking the tears that spilled incessantly out of his eyes. David Cook stopped – finally – at a clearing lined with Sycamore trees half a century old. He sank to his knees, unable to feel his legs anymore. His hands splayed on the muddy ground.
He'd been running through the forest for hours. And hours. Trying to escape the bitter reality. But he knew there was no way to break away from the harsh truth. His brother was gone, murdered by the very abomination he feared he would someday become.
If only he'd arrived sooner. If only he'd gone after the vampire clan leader in Adam's stead.
If only.
If only.
But he had no space left in his heart for regrets.
The thought consumed him, causing the pain – physical and emotional – even harder to bear. He brought his hand against his side, clutching at the spot near his ribcage where the vampire called Constantine had plunged a dagger deep into his flesh.
Dave knew he had to pull himself together if he were to find the vampire – the betrayer responsible for his brother's death, to find the vampires that attacked the small village in Kansu where several Carpathian families lived, killing a hundred or more of his people – men, women and children alike. To do that, he must first mend his broken body. He must first heal his wound.
For one hundred years, he'd walked the earth, his soul bound to the pulse that throbbed beneath his feet. "The earth is our mother," his mom, Beth, had once told him when he was a child. "She possesses life-giving energy that may help ease any discomfort."
His mother's words lingered around his head while he let the ground claim him. As soon as half of his body was buried in the soil, Dave began to chant. Words spoken in the ancient tongue that his race used in rituals spilled from his mouth. He could feel the earth's energy flowing through him, could feel the ache coursing through his body gradually subside.
Without the distraction of the physical pain, the thoughts that he managed to push away earlier came thundering in his head.
Adam was gone. As tradition went, he was next to the leadership throne. "You're a prince by blood," his mother had been reminding him over the years. But Dave had dedicated his life to hunting vampires, to protect the innocents from the dangers that the undead brought. He, along with other hunters, had vowed to rid the world of the growing threat of darkness. He was, to his mother's disapproval, a hunter by heart.
Hours passed and daylight rolled in. Dave remained immersed in the ground – under the canopy of the trees, safely hidden from the scorching glow of the sun. His mind wandered, sinking deeper into contemplation, while his body rejuvenated.
A prince by blood. His mother's words echoed in his head. Dave knew it was a huge responsibility. Not that he doubted he couldn't handle it, but he feared failure.
His race was on the brink of extinction. Carpathians might live a hundred – some even thousands of years, but few Carpathians had been born over the last five centuries. Many of his people had been left without lifemates – the light to their darkness, the other half of their soul. Without lifemates, some surrender to the darkness and become the undead and some chose to end their life in peace.
Now that the vampires had taken more of his kind, Dave's apprehension grew. Shadows crept perilously into his soul. He worried about his friend, Daughtry, whose lifemate had been one of those that the vampires had killed.
The thirst for revenge pulsated in his veins, incessantly gnawing underneath his skin.
The next time Dave opened his eyes, orange streaks stretched across a veil of light gray and darkening blue. The wind blew east, coaxing the trees to sway in the same direction. In a heartbeat of silence, Dave heard footsteps approaching. He caught the familiar scent even before his friend spoke.
"Don't mean to intrude, mate," Michael said, pausing beside one particularly old tree. The fading glow of the sunset cast murky shadows around him. "Lee and Taylor had tracked the vampires to the bordering mountains of Canada. Jason had been able to gather enough hunters to follow them. They're just waiting for your orders."
Dave offered no response. Words seemed heavy on his tongue.
"Dave?"
"I'll go with them." Dave climbed out of the ground, with his wound healed and his heart less heavy. "Where's Daughtry?"
"Burying Deanna" was Michael's contrite response, his eyes downcast. And I'm afraid with her, he's likewise burying his heart, Michael added in thought.
Dave welcomed the link, now that his mind was open to his friend. Let's leave him to his grief, Dave sent out his own thoughts. For now.
They were near the edge of the forest and Dave could hear the hunters – his brothers chanting:
'Veri isäakank- veri ekäakank. 1
Veri olen elid. 2
Andak veri-elidet Karpatiiakank, és wäke-sarna ku meke arwa-arvo, irgalom, hän ku agba, és wäke kutni, ku manaak verival. 3
Verink sokta; verink kaŋa terád. 4
Akasz énak ku kaŋa és juttasz kuntatak it.' 5
=======
Translations:
1 Blood of our fathers-blood of our brothers.
2 Blood is life.
3 We offer that life to our people with a blood sworn vow of honor, mercy, integrity and endurance.
4 Our blood mingles and calls to you.
5 Heed our summons and join with us now.
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Date: 2011-11-03 03:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-03 09:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-03 09:45 pm (UTC)