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Coveted by Angels Dracula
Sleep was not vital; it was an exorbitant luxury the night did not afford. I left my chamber in the twilight hours as a man ravenous, nearly desperate to get past the walls of stone. The castle seemed a cage, stifling and obscuring the mountains beyond. They were an emblem unchanged and unchangeable, and it was there I flew, rapaciously seeking their strength. They lorded over the entire forest, obliging me to pause in obeisance before the massive base as I contemplated the climb. The quickest way was effectively worthless. My body began to surge forward, carving a path impossible to follow, moving with inhuman speed. It was the struggle that challenged, that fortified, and I had neither rested nor fed. Limbs that would not sear with burning pain became stiff and leaden, restored to motion through the sheer force of my will. I forced my way through each step, willing myself to reach the peak, the sedition of my body only fueling my determination. The snow fell thickly in the higher altitude, overwhelming the landscape until everything lay covered in white, intensified by the multitudes of stars. Prisms of light inundated my sensitive eyes. I could taste my own weakness, but I would not answer it. When I reached the top, the snow was no longer all around me, but on me, caught in my hair, my eyelashes, blurring the prospect I had fought to gain, collecting again immediately, despite the many times I cleared my view. And yet it hardly mattered. I stood at the very heights of the earth, all the world at my feet. Nothing I could see was beyond my grasp. No sacred place I could not soar. No angelic reach surpassed my touch, no zenith mortally coveted. I was alive! The snow that froze on my lips, the wind that rushed dangerously past�their movement and life were absorbed into my frame, and I, too, was alive. It was a heady, intoxicating ardor, one that no living creature could experience and sustain. I longed to lean forward and yield to it, but I would not lose the sight so quickly, and yet retained my balance. Snow had already covered my footsteps, leaving the path beguiling and unmarked. I looked back over the land I had traversed, acknowleding that no human could survive the climb in such conditions. Yet had they not done so? It had been described vividly in the legends. Men who sought enlightenment, braving the elements to unite with them, mortifying their selves to elevate their understanding, returning in godlike splendor that dissipated as quickly as their bodies crumbled. They degenerated into mere stories unbelieved by anyone with the meanest education. I swept the gathering snowflakes from my eyes, shifting my weight, watching as the imprint left by my boots filled within moments. Legends would always exist for those who had not the aptitude to secure anything greater for themselves. But that was not all I gathered from the mountain�it supported me as I gazed up at the stars, unwavering in spite of their intensity. One thousand celestial lights that would one day burn out, outshined by their own limits. I began to retrace the path, counting my steps, mapping out the territory in my mind. It was near dawn when I reached the foot of the forest once more, yet still I had no desire to return to castle. The snow began to melt, spilling over my skin in icy rivulets that I instinctively brushed away. How trivial it seemed, almost negligible in that moment, the necessity and dependence upon feeding and reposing regularly. An era that would outlast the stars defined itself. My cloak was drenched once the snow had finally melted; I left it in the foyer, taking the steps two at a time, silently crossing the corridor to the nursery. In two hours the sun would rise, and I wanted to see my son as he awoke. I would sit precisely across from his bed, and the first figure he would see that morning would be mine. The door yielded as I gently pushed it, my eyes scanning the room for his still sleeping form. It is curious what the mind will procure in moments of intense desolation, what images of comfort we conjure for ourselves to sedate the bare truth. For a moment I did see him, resting peacefully in a room that was utterly empty. Everything stood in order, exactly as it had been the night before, when Mihail had been securely inside. My gaze fell on the window. Dread flooded my senses. It approached it guardedly, preparing myself for a blow I could not formulate. I could see his small hands grasping uselessly at the unyielding stone, ending the unbearable vision as I tensely pushed open the glass. There was nothing below, and the utter lack of finality was an enthralling relief. I leaned against the cool frame, inexpressably, madly relieved. The forest was untouched, the coming day undisturbed. All was clear. He must have risen very early; it was a sublime day to do so. I imagined he had escaped to the river before his lessons. I eased myself away, leaving the window open to air out the room. Mihail was safe. I would see him that afternoon, I told myself, leaving for my own chamber. My first impulse was to rush to that window also, an impulse I eschewed. I had to stop this; it was irrational. I could not go on repeating the images I saw when my eyes closed, no matter how many cards they appeared on. I did approach the window, my hand falling upon the latch before I truly determined to open it. The first streaks of daylight skitted over the trees. I heard the river gurgling in the distance. Red petals scarred the rocks below, catching and dazzling the sun�s rays. But it was amiss�the petals were too bright, they glistened as if wet, and it had not rained. I stared at them without fully comprehending, without connecting them to the unnaturally still form amidst the rocks. And in one agonizing instant of understanding, I saw them for what they were. It was a new-found agony I could not own, the anguish of a soul dragged through the portal of hell. Blood, spilt on the rocks, wet in the sunlight. A body broken from a horrific fall. A face that had a name, one my lips could not pronounce, reverberating within my head. Mihail.
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