Marble love

© Isa Akane B. , 2001

(click here for two illustrations of the main characters)

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The young man was sitting on a windowsill, looking sadly outside. The view from this place was beautiful. His room was located on a high level in one of the castle's towers. From there he could see the valley and the nearby village. He wished he could be there, walking in these streets again, talking to people around him. He had everything he wanted in the castle. He had his own room, his own servants, he could go freely wherever he wanted in this place. But he didn't want to move from this room, he didn't want to go away from his window and its view on the village. He wasn't really free, he couldn't go back to the place where he grew up. He sighed as he remembered how excited he had been with his friend two years ago when they found out that the king was coming to the village to visit his people.

He remembered everyone running around the streets to get the village ready for the royal visit. He was 15, then, and very handsome. But his purple hair used to make strangers laugh. Everybody knew him in the village, as everybody knew everybody. All had laughed when he was born, but they grew accustomed to the sight of a purple haired little boy and now it seemed absolutely normal to them. But still strangers laughed. And the boy was always saddened by this. And now the king was coming and he didn't want to think of himself being the laughingstock of His Highness. But nothing of this happened. And now he regretted it didn't happen. The king arrived, the crowd cheered. Babies and little children were presented to him and he paternally patted their heads. The boy looked at the scene wondering if the king would have patted a purple haired head a few years ago. Suddenly a movement in the crowd pushed him to the front row and he was facing the king. Actually, he was facing the king's horse and didn't dare looking up. Much to his surprise, he felt a gloved hand caressing his hair then sliding to his cheek to end cupping his chin, forcing him to look upwards. The king studied him for a while then turned to his escort and gave an order to a man. Without looking back to the boy, the king motioned his horse forward and was soon out of sight, waving to the crowd and patting other heads.

Soon all was over, the king was back to his castle, but a banquet had been prepared on the marketplace. The boy was troubled by the king's behavior. He was about to go to the place to meet his friends when two guards from the castle entered the house. They spoke for a while with his father and he could hear that his mother was crying. He tried to get nearer without being seen, but all he could hear was one of the guards telling his parents that they would be waiting outside. What was happening? He rushed to his room and was lying on the bed, pretending not to have heard anything, when his father entered his room. All he could remember was that his father told him that the king wanted him and that he had to pack his belongings at once. Then he was on a horse, escorted by two guards, and he was led to a room, his room. Then the king entered and marveled at the boy's beauty. He told him how fascinated he was by his purple hair.

That was all the boy wanted to remember for now. The past two years have been awfull disguised slavery. He couldn't get used to the king's hands on his body, the king's lips on his skin. The idea of the king making love to him always made him feel nauseous. It's not that the man was ugly or treated him bad. Actually he was rather good looking and always nice with him. He offered him anything the boy wanted or should have wanted. But the boy had never been attracted by men and he was forced to do things that disgusted him. And most of all, he couldn't go away. He could wander alone in the castle but four men always escorted him when he was going outside in the gardens or the wood. It was supposed to be for his safety, but he knew it was to prevent him from running away.

The boy looked at the village sadly. He couldn't see his house from there but he knew in which direction it was. He used to sit there and stare at the distant spot where he supposed his house was. He sighed and jumped back into the room. He decided he should move and went to open his door. As always, one of his servants rushed to ask if he needed something. The boy sighed and shook his head. After a long moment of wandering in the castle corridors he arrived in front of a tall wooden door he had never seen before. Looking around he saw that the place wasn't familiar. He had been in this place for two years but he didn't go out of his room enough to know the entire castle. Looking at the door he saw that there was no lock. Nothing prevented him to enter... He pushed the heavy door but it didn't move. He pushed harder and finally managed to open it a little, enough to let him get inside. He took a nearby torch and entered the room. The torch didn't provide enough light to let him see far but he could see that he was surrounded by old ornaments that weren't used anymore: big heavy chairs, tables of all sizes, rich carpets, tapestries,...

He stopped in front of a strange object. It seemed to be made of marble but it was light purple. He had never seen purple marble before. He directed the light of his torch towards the marble object. As he had expected, it was a statue. He looked up. The statue was a little taller than him but seemed to be real sized. He looked at its face and saw that it was a handsome young man, with a slightly sad expression. And the hair of this man was made of green marble. The boy gasped at the sight. The model had certainly be beautiful, and the sad look and strange hair made him think they must have shared the same feelings. Something here was making him shiver. He decided he had been there enough and found his way back to the door. He went back to his room quickly and dropped on his bed. Closing his eyes he saw the purple statue, trying to remember every details he had seen in the dark room. He realized he hadn't touched it and wanted badly to do so. But he wasn't sure he wanted to go back to this place.

Two days later, he was standing in the dark room with a torch in his hand, staring at the statue that was obsessing him. His desire to touch it had been stronger than his fear. And there he was, his hand in mid-air, not daring to touch the cold marble. Was it really cold? What if it wasn't marble, if it was a warm living creature? It looked so real... He finally did what he had been longing to do for two day. He touched it, first hesitantly, only putting a finger on it's smooth surface. Of course it was cold. He put his hand on the right arm of the statue, that was folded to maintain stone clothes in place. The boy let his hand trail on the stone. It felt good. Actually the contact between his fingers and the stone was making him feel strangely good. He suddenly realized that his mind had been drifting for a while and he could remember imagining himself trapped in the stone arms, feeling comforted by this marble being. Comforted and loved. Almost dropping his torch he backed away from the statue and ran to his room. He buried his face in his pillow and tried to calm himself. His fear was soon replaced by a strange feeling he couldn't identify. All he could think was that he needed to go back to the dark room. He started wondering if he was getting insane.

Three more days later, the boy was laying in his bed, confused by what had just happened. The king was dozing by his side. They had just made love, or more exactly the king had been using his body, and for the first time the boy had felt pleasure in what he had always found disgusting. What was confusing him was that he had imagined that it wasn't the king he was with but the man represented on the marble statue. He wanted to see again what he considered his stone friend. As he moved in the bed, the king woke and looked at the boy.

"You're not sleeping, sweetheart? Is something bothering you?"

Oh yes! Many things. But he wasn't allowed to tell it. Instead he answered:

"You always want to offer me presents and I never want anything. This time I have a request."

"I'll give you anything you want, you know it."

The care from the man was sincere and the boy was grateful for this. But that couldn't make him happy. Now he knew that a single object could do it.

"I've found a place I didn't know, lately. There's a statue in that room. I'd like to have it in my room."

The next morning, the statue was placed near the boy's favorite window. When one of his servants tried to clean it, the boy took the rag from his hands.

"You may go, I'll take care of this myself."

"But you can't..."

The boy glared at the poor man who obediently went outside. The boy frowned. He had been rude with this man. It never happened before. He had been... jealous? How could he be jealous when someone else was simply trying to touch his belongings? No, this time it was not a simple belonging, it was HIS statue. His love. He started at the thought. Frowning he decided to forget this and began cleaning the purple marble with gentle movements, as if he was caressing a living body. He knew these thought were insane but he liked them. After several minutes the statue was clean, shining as if it has been freshly polished. The boy dropped the rag and ran a hand on the marble surface. This statue was his. This man was his, and he wasn't going to humiliate him like the king used to do so often. He went closer and circled the statue's waist with his arms, leaning his head on the cold shoulder. He staid like this longer than he thought and was surprised to hear the knock on his door from the servant who was calling him for lunch. Reluctantly he left his beloved statue and headed to the door.

He had eaten as quickly as he could and had returned to his room early. For the first time in the two years he had spent there he had found something to live for. He was standing in front of the marble man, looking at every detail of the sculpted face. He wanted to remember it when he would close his eyes. This way he would be able to forget the king's presence. It worked once, he could use this again. His hands were roaming over the marble body, following every curve of the smooth surface. His fingers were on the handsome face, caressing it as if it was flesh he was touching. He couldn't understand why he was acting this way. After all it was only an object. And he was treating it like a human. A human he loved. He was feeling as if something or someone was directing his moves. His body was now pressed against the cold stone, arms wrapped around the hard waist, his face nearly touching the marble. He closed his eyes and felt his lips on the statue's mouth. The contrast between the cold hard surface and his warm soft flesh was strange, almost disturbing, but he loved it. He traced the marble lips with the tip of his tongue, waiting for them to open and... Suddenly he backed away from his marble lover. He had just realized what he was doing. He was bewitched by this object. He looked at the statue with fear, fear of seeing it move, seeing it offering him the comfort of its arms, smiling at him. But of course it didn't move. The boy shook his head and laughed. He was stupid! It was just his imagination. But still he couldn't understand why he acted like a lover with this marble man.

When the king came to him that night, he tried to use the little trick he had found. In his mind, the hands on his skin were replaced by purple fingers and the hair that tickled his neck while hungry lips kissed his chest was green. Without opening his eyes, he could picture a marble body undulating on him. He used this trick a few weeks but gradually the previous disgust came back. This time it wasn't because the king was taking him against his will. It was because someone was touching him, someone who wasn't his beloved marble man. He wanted to belong to this man only. His thoughts were confusing him. He had never been so jealous before and had never hated someone like this. He had the feeling that his thoughts were belonging to someone else.

The boy was sitting on the windowsill as he used to do, considering for a while jumping from this place. But there was a little balcony under his window. He could be hurt, but that wouldn't be enough to kill him. Of course, the king had thought of this eventuality when he took him there. He turned his head to look at the statue and sighed.

"If only we could fly..."

He had started to speak to his silent lover two weeks before. He was ashamed at first but soon he didn't care if somebody could hear him and laugh at him. So his marble friend listened silently to his monologues every day.

"And if only you could talk..."

He knew it was stupid but he had hoped for a while that the statue will turn to him, open its mouth and answer. As always it didn't move. The boy just stared at it, thinking that the person who had sculpted this marvelous being should have created it naked. He blushed when he thought that this way the statue could have made love to him for real. He could have sworn that this thought didn't came from him. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by love and a picture lingered in his mind: his body pressed against purple skin, his lover holding him tightly. He felt that this picture was forced into his mind. This wasn't coming from him. Almost falling from the window, he jumped into the room and ran to the door. Still running he reached the garden, followed by his four guards and a confused servant. Out of breath, he stopped and dropped under a tree. Something had gone wrong. Now he was insane. He started crying, unable to stop. His servant had returned with a concerned king.

"What's happening to you, my sweet one?"

The king brushed a tear from the boy's cheek. The boy backed away.

"Don't touch me! This is all your fault!"

The king frowned. He didn't understand what had happened to the peaceful, obedient boy he loved so much. He sighed.

"All right. But if you want to talk you know I will always be there to listen to you."

He patted the boy's head and left.

The king hadn't visited him for five days after this incident. Maybe he was tired of his presence, maybe he had heard rumors about him talking to a piece of marble. He knew the king wasn't angry, he had seen him smiling at him a few time. But no more nightly visits. He should have been glad, but he was afraid of being thrown into a cell and forgotten there, or sent back to his house and treated as a fool. That meant his life was definitely lost. He didn't dare looking at his beloved marble man anymore. He couldn't tell why but the statue scared him, and now that he ignored it, his thoughts seemed to get clearer.

Then one night a noise woke him. It was only the sound of his window slamed on the wall by the wind. He got up and went to close it. The moon was almost full and its light allowed him to see the village. Once more he thought he would never go back there. He turned to return to his bed and he saw that the statue was bathed in the moonlight. He knew he shouldn't look but he stared at it. He could feel it calling him, silently asking him to come closer. Unable to resist this silent order he walked to the statue, caressed it with shaky fingers. He was lost again. He felt the urge to get closer, to press his body against it, kiss it, let it make love to him... He froze. This was definitely coming from somewhere else than his mind. This thought wasn't his. But it was so tempting. Reluctantly he went back to bed. So it was true, he was really insane. He had to do something to make all this stop.

When he woke in the morning he knew what he was going to do. He spent the whole day in the garden, enjoying the warm sun on his skin and the sound of birds singing around him. Before going to bed, he wandered in the corridors of the castles as he had done other times before. He went to the kitchen pretending to get some fruits. Then he managed to steal a sharp knife and went back to his room. He closed the door and leaned on it for a while. He should have done this before, but he had always kept a small hope of being freed one day. But now, he had nothing to lose. His freedom will be in his death. Holding the knife in his hand he walked towards the statue. The flickering light of the candles were casting strange shadows on its face, making it look sadder than before, as if it could know what the boy was about to do. He caressed it one last time, thinking that he would miss it.

"I love you."

His voice was faint but echoed in his mind as if someone had answered to him with the same words. He felt ridiculous. He was in love with a man who was only a fiction. But this man had become the center of his own little universe. He rested his head on the marble shoulder and cried silently, his tears falling on the sculpted chest, sliding along the purple body. The boy raised the knife and looked at it sadly. He couldn't go back, he had to do it. He placed the sharp blade on his wrist and opened his veins, repeating it with the other wrist. Pain overwhelmed him. His blood was spilling on the marble and dripping on the carpeted floor. He smiled, thinking that it would be hard to clean this. Slowly his mind became confused and he passed out.

He woke at the feeling of something warm around him, holding him. Wasn't death supposed to be cold? No, he had killed himself, he was certainly in Hell, that could explain the warmth. But why was a demon caressing his cheek? He tried to open his eyes and realized it was difficult to do, as if he was sick and weak. What he saw was so unbelievable that he was sure he was dead. A man was holding him in his arms, close against his body. That explained the warmth. The fingers that were on his cheek were purple, the same light purple as a certain marble. He knew that he was looking at the statue, his beloved statue had come to life. But he wasn't a little boy. He knew that fairy tales were just stories, marble couldn't turn to flesh. He frowned and raised a shaky hand to touch the face he knew so well. It was warm and soft.

"Who are you?"

"Do you really need to ask, sweet boy? You know who I am, you know that I love you. Didn't you hear me speaking to you so many times?"

The strange thoughts he had... So, they were coming from the statue...

"But... You can't be alive..."

"You freed me. With your tears and your blood."

The boy was still wondering if they were both alive. Maybe it was an illusion from his dying soul. He had lost so much blood. He looked at his wrists and saw that the wound were healed. He could only see small scars. He looked at the man and saw love in his green eyes. He realized that for the first time he was able to see those eyes. He raised his wrists in front of him.

"How can you explain this? I've never seen wounds healing so fast."

The man looked uneasy. He cleared his throat and answered:

"I... healed you."

"How?"

"Blood can be powerful, you know..."

He smiled at the boy. Something was wrong with this smile. It was somehow predatory. He realized that the man had fangs. He tried to get away but he was too weak to move enough.

"Who are you? I mean, WHAT are you?"

The man's smile was sad.

"I think you already guessed."

"It's impossible. Vampires are only a legend."

"Really? What about statues coming to life?"

The boy was frightened and the vampire could feel it. He had been connected to the boy by their minds and now that he had tasted his blood the bond between them was stronger. He leaned wanting to reach the boy's lips but the feeling of terror coming from this fragile soul stoped him.

"You're afraid aren't you?"

"Yes... wouldn't you be? I'm too weak to move and you're holding me."

"But you don't have to be afraid. I don't want to hurt you. I can't hurt you. You must trust me."

"I don't really have the choice."

The boy's voice had been cold. The vampire had a sad expression on his face again.

"You weren't that harsh when I was trapped in the marble. I never lied to you. Those feelings I sent you... You don't even know me, you judge me by what you see. I'm not the monster described by the legends."

The boy felt sorry. He realized that this man was the first person to really care for him. The king said he loved him but it was only an egoist feeling. Something told him that the vampire wouldn't keep him captive like this. Feeling his forces coming back, he managed to raise his hand again, this time to caress the man's face.

"I'm sorry."

His soft apologize earned him a purple smile. He tried to raise his head to reach the man's lips but he stopped him and leaned. Unlike his statue form, his lips were soft and warm. The boy moaned under the kiss. It was so different from the lustful kisses of the king. He knew that sharp fangs were hiding behind those lips but he didn't fear them anymore. He was certain that the vampire wouldn't attack him. The comforting lips left him and he whimpered at the loss. The vampire laughed softly.

"You're still too weak to engage into something more... intense. We'll have all the time to explore new possibilities later."

"But... shouldn't we run away? If the king finds you..."

"He won't. Just act as you did and he'll leave you in peace for a while. As long as he doesn't come here, he won't hear about me."

"And the servants?"

"You ordered them not to touch me. I'll just have to pretend I'm the statue again while they take care of your room."

Taking the boy in his arms, he rose and went to the bed.

"You'll be better here. Try to sleep, now."

"I'm not tired. Stay here with me, please."

"I'm not going anywhere. And I know you're tired, don't forget that I can feel your emotions."

He stroke the boy's hair and kissed him on the forehead. He helped him taking off his clothes and pulled the sheet on their naked bodies. The boy nestled against him and soon fell asleep. The vampire smiled. Despite the humiliations he had been exposed to, this boy was still a child.

When he woke in the morning, he felt arms wrapped around him. He suddenly remembered what happened that night and hoped it wasn't a dream. Turning his head he saw with relief that the owner of the arms wasn't the king but his new found love. The man was still asleep and he feared for a while that he had returned to his marble form. But the arms holding him were warm. He turned slowly to face the vampire. He looked peaceful in his sleep. Suddenly the boy remembered with horror that the legends said that vampires burnt if the sun touched them. He had to block the light from the windows. The vampire's eyes opened and he sleepily smiled at the boy.

"You don't need to worry, I love to warm my body to the sun, and it never did anything wrong to me. I told you, I have nothing to do with these legends. Good morning, love."

He kissed the boy gently but this time he allowed the kiss to become more passionate. He didn't need to look at his young love to know that he wanted him. He could feel the boy's desire pouring into his mind. For the first time he was able to let his hands explore the young body, gently caressing, trying to make him forget the disgust he had felt for too many nights when he had been forced to remain obedient and silent. The boy grabbed the vampire, afraid of feeling him go away. He stared amazed at the contrast between the purple skin and his own. He'll need to get some explanations, later. He moaned loudly as a hand slid along his back and rested on his ass. Wrapping his legs around the man's waist, he pushed his body closer. For the first time he wanted this to happen. He wanted to be loved, not to be used. And he knew he was going to find love with this man. He didn't feel any disgust when the vampire entered him, he didn't want to cry when he felt him moving inside him. He was amazed by the new feelings he was experiencing. Everything was so different. This time he didn't need to close his eyes and fantasize about his beloved statue to get some pleasure. All he had to do was look into the emerald eyes that were lovingly staring at him. He was with him, he wasn't dreaming, and his pleasure was greater than when he used that little trick. He was soon moaning louder and had to muffle his cries in the man's shoulder when he came. Attracting anxious servants in his room wouldn't have been a wise idea.

When he finally caught his breath he was lying on wet sheets, a strong arm protectively placed across his chest. He was exhausted but at the same time he felt the urge to ask thousand questions to his lover. This man was still a mystery. As though he had read his thoughts, the vampire put a finger on the boy's lips to hush him.

"Rest, my love, we'll talk later. I'll take care of you."

The boy answered by playfully licking the finger on his lips, smiling lovingly at the man. He felt good, at last. He was loved and he had find some hope of getting away from this castle he hated. But a part of his mind was still anxious. What would happen if the king found out? Will he kill the vampire? Will he kill them both? He snuggled up against the man and decided he had to become optimistic.

They staid in bed for a while then the boy felt his stomach call for attention.

"I'm hungry... I'll go to the kitchen to get some food and I'll come back. I won't be long."

He rose and got out of bed when he suddenly realized that he had forgotten to ask an important question. He turned to the vampire.

"I was wondering... Do you eat?"

"Do I still look like marble? Of course, I eat. I'm flesh and blood, like you. You're still refering to those legends, aren't you?"

"Well, it's just that I thought..."

"Don't look sorry, you can't know me. I have so many thing to tell you."

"Really? So, wait for me, I'll be back as soon as I can! And I'll tell my servants that I will take care of my room myself so they won't disturb you during my absence."

He got ready quickly and ran to the door. The vampire smiled at this youthful excitement. He had never seen the boy like this before. He knew him as a sad and desperate young man, but he had always known what was hidden inside him.

About half an hour later, their hunger was satisfied and they were sitting facing each other on the bed. The boy couldn't decide what to ask first. There were so many questions! Feeling his confusion, the vampire decided to talk first.

"Maybe you can start by asking me my name."

The boy started. He hadn't realized that he had spent a few hours with this man, slept with him, made love with him... and he didn't even thought of asking him his name. He felt stupid and blush slightly.

"So... What's your name?"

"I'm Ulrich. What will be your next question, my sweet Quentin?"

"How... how do you know my name?"

"I've been able to hear and see everything around me since you woke me. And I can read some thing from your mind, too."

"I woke you? Do you mean that you were sleeping?"

The vampire was thoughtful for a while then sighed.

"I think you could see thing like that."

"I don't understand. Tell me what happened to you. How did you end up as a statue?"

"It was a long time ago, many years before your birth. I was an aristocrat... and something more. I had the potential to use basic magic spells when I was a child and I'd been chosen to become a vampire. You must understand that it was an honor. Only a few people were offered this. My new nature was allowing me to help people with my powers. I had become a healer and I could use higher spells. Soon I became close to the king, we were almost friends. I had become a powerful man. When I was 20 I met a girl who became my wife. We were happy but I wasn't aware of the fact that the king loved her, too. It became an obsession in his mind: he had to find a way to have her. That means he had to get rid of me. He was a kind man, and I couldn't think he would do something like this.

"First he sent me away to help a friendly country that was threatened by invaders. But it was quickly handled and I was back before he thought. Then I had to go again, this time to use my healing power in a village where people were dying from a strange illness. That fool thought I would be sick and die too. But a month later I was back home and the village was saved. That's when attacks started against me: thieves, assassins, even a witch. All tried to destroy me but I always killed them before they could really hurt me. The king's behavior had change also. Our friendship had started to degrade and I couldn't understand why. He was getting aggressive with me but still he wanted me around. Of course, it allowed him to see my wife.

"One day of my 23rd year I was sent in a forest where it was said that a monster that destroyed herds had been seen by villagers. I was supposed to be the only one able to destroy it. But what I found in this forest was very different from the report. There was no monster, although I wonder if the king hadn't become one for doing what he did. He was waiting for me there with his best swordsmen. They attacked me but it was only a diversion. A sorcerer was there, too, and he had been ordered to cast a spell on me that would definitely stop me without killing me. The king had chosen what you've seen: a marble statue. I think there was still some reason in him. Killing a vampire was a crime. And I think that he wouldn't have killed someone he had been so close to. When I had been wounded enough to have lost a lot of blood, the sorcerer attacked. My power had become too weak to protect myself from the spell.

"They took me back to the castle and I was placed in the king's study. From what I heard next, my wife and my son were invited to live at the castle. I could see and hear but I couldn't do anything. I couldn't use my powers anymore. It had something to do with the loss of blood, I'll explain you later. Some times later, I was placed in the throne room, officially 'sculpted in honor of my services and tragic death'. I could see and hear more things, from this place. I could see the ones I love, again. My wife often came to see me, showing me to our son. If only they had known... I saw my son grow up, I saw him become a knight. My wife had died a year or so after she arrived at the castle. I heard she never gave in to the king's advances. She had become very depressed and killed herself. And I couldn't even cry. I suspect that she had understood that my 'death' wasn't an accident. The king became mad. Maybe he had thought about all the things he had done to us. I told you, he wasn't really bad. But I won't forgive him. And now I've seen that his descendant isn't better. He was the great-grandfather of the actual king, you know."

"But you said you were able to see and hear, and you told me before that I woke you..."

"Yes. I was able to see and hear as when I was truly living. But it slowly faded and it was like when you fall asleep. You hear things but you don't know if it's coming from outside or if it's just noises and voices in your head. Then without noticing, you're asleep. And when you wake in the morning, you can't tell if something happened around you while you were sleeping. That was the same for me. I started to lose a part of my perception after my son's early death. I think that's because I had lost my last link to the outside with him. Then for a reason that I never knew I was taken away and placed in the dark room where you found me. There in the dark, without any sound, I quickly lost the track of time. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, and I was tired. As I told you, I didn't realized that I'd fallen asleep. Until your presence woke me.

"I don't know how you did this. But I'm sure we have some things in common, and my soul had been connected to yours that day. Don't ask me how it happened, I told you I can't explain it, but I know it can happen with people of my kind. All I can tell you is that I woke as anyone would do after a good night of rest and I could remember everything I saw or heard before I slept. But I didn't know how long I'd been asleep. I found the answer in your mind. I also found there all the things you've been through. You can't imagine how sad I've been when you ran away from that room and you closed the door on me. I knew you were afraid, and I knew I was the cause of your fear. But when you came back a while later, I've been so happy to be able to see you again... I've been waiting for you to come back, I had hoped you would do so. And I had all the time to think about many things. And to realize that I love you."

"How can you say this? You don't know me. And you've lost your beloved wife not so long ago-"

"It was 21 years before I fell asleep. I still love her, of course, but that doesn't mean I can't love someone else. Someone who's alive and who needs me. You gave me a reason to be alive again."

They both were silent for a while, Ulrich wondering if he had been right to tell everything to the boy, Quentin wondering what he was supposed to do. But he still had questions for the man and his curiosity won.

"Maybe you'll find my question strange, but... why is your skin purple, with the same patterns as marble? I suppose you weren't like this before."

The vampire laughed and looked at his hands.

"No, I wasn't like this before. And I've never seen any living creature with a skin like this. This is what happens when an unskilled sorcerer tries to cast a high level spell! He just messed a little with it."

"But the main spell disappeared, why didn't your skin return to it's previous aspect?"

"It's sometimes impossible to break a spell if you're not the one who cast it. This one wasn't supposed to be removed by anyone. But as I told you, blood can be powerful, and when your blood spilled on me the spell dissolved. It was a chance that it happened. I didn't expect this. Unfortunately, I don't think that I'll be able to have my skin's color back. Even with your blood."

"It's not important. I love you for your soul, I think. And this is a nice color..."

"The same as your hair."

Quentin ran a hand in his hair and sighed.

"It's what attracted the king's eyes first. Unfortunately, he's the only one who find it cute the first time he saw it."

"No, he's not the first. I found it rather cute, too."

"Yours is nice, too. That spell gave you interesting colors!"

"No, you're wrong. The spell didn't do anything to my hair. It has always been green. And I was proud of it. Nobody would have thought of laughing at it, of course. It seems that many things have changed since that time."

"I don't understand. Do you mean it was something usual?"

"No, but... I think you had more questions for me."

Quentin frowned at the vampire's forced smile. He was hiding something.

"I just asked you a question. It seems you don't want to answer. You say you love me and you're already lying to me."

"It's... for your welfare."

"How could your answer be dangerous for me?"

"Your soul isn't totally at peace, yet."

"And it won't be if I keep wondering what awful thing you're hiding!"

"It's not awful. It's just... I told you we had things in common..."

"Do you mean I'm like you?"

"The color of your hair... it's a sign of your difference. You have powers like I had when I was a child. You have the ability to use magic. Black magic, because your hair is purple. Green is the sign for white magic users."

Quentin looked at his lover amazed, slightly horrified. This couldn't be true. If he could use black magic, that would mean that he was bad. Maybe he was some kind of demon, or...

"... a sorcerer... That's what I would be if I had been taught the use of magic. Am I right?"

"Yes..."

"Like the one who did you... this?"

"Yes. But your soul is pure, I don't understand how it is possible with your nature."

"I'm not human?"

"I told you you were like me. Do you think I'm not human?"

"You're a vampire!"

"Yes, I'm this also, but that change didn't take my human nature away. It's just as if you give a more powerful weapon to a soldier: he won't become a king for this."

"So, we're both human, we're both magic users, do you plan to make me become a vampire, too?"

"No."

Ulrich's tone had been sharp, menacing. Quentin thought he shouldn't go farther with this. Maybe he'll have the time later to ask more questions. But for now, the problem was to find a solution to escape this place.

"We need to get away. Can you use your powers to do this?"

"I don't know. I feel it has weakened. I need to..."

"What? What do you need? I can have anything I want, I just need to ask and the king will give it to me."

"I don't think he'll give his blood to you."

"Blood? That's what you need to get your powers back?"

"Why do you think I have been made a vampire? My power is enhanced by that nature, but the vampire in me is weak without blood. I'm not a predator as you may think. I only drink blood when my powers are needed for a good cause. And I never kill my victims. But... it disgusts me. It's not the taste of the blood, I find it wonderful. It's the intimacy of this act. Drinking someone's blood is getting closer to this person than you can ever get in a physical union. You share more than that person's body. You share his or her soul."

"You can have me. I can give you my blood."

"That's the problem: I can't do this to someone I love."

"But why? That should be easier!"

"I feel it's like a rape. I can't do this to you."

"I have already experienced worse."

The vampire was thwarted by Quentin's bitter tone. He took the boy in his arms and cradled him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have talked about this. I'll find a way to get us both out of this place."

"I'm not sure about this."

They both started and turned to watch in horror as the king glared at them.

"Quentin, my sweet boy, I'm really disappointed. You betrayed me. And you..."

He looked at the vampire menacingly then called for his guards.

"Take them both into a cell. I've been kind with you, Quentin. But I won't forgive this."

A few hours later, Quentin was trying to soothe Ulrich. The vampire was lying on the straw covered floor, his head resting on the boy's thighs. Quentin was crying softly. The king had forced him to watch as the vampire was tortured, his blood drained from his body enough to weaken him without killing him. The boy remembered what Ulrich had told him. 'Killing a vampire was a crime.' Such thing didn't seem to be part of the law anymore, but maybe the king had some reason to spare the vampire's life. Ulrich had lost consciousness at the end of his torture and the king had ordered to throw him back into the cell.

"I'm not finished with you two. You have things to tell me, Quentin. But I'm tired and it's time to eat. For me, of course. Don't expect to get something more than water. You can still drink what's left of his blood if you're really hungry."

The king had laughed and left the place. And now Quentin was alone with his dying lover. He was desperately trying to find a way to help him. Maybe if he managed to give him some blood... He caressed the vampire's lips and parted them to reveal the fangs that had afraid him before. Opening the man's mouth, he pressed his wrist on the fangs, trying to apply enough pressure to pierce his skin. Eventually the fangs sank in. Quentin grimaced at the feeling but realized that it wasn't painful at all. In fact it was a rather good feeling. Ulrich had fallen unconscious, again, but his tongue instinctively lapped at the blood dripping in his mouth. His lips closed on the frail wrist and he sucked the healing fluid. Suddenly he opened his eyes and realized what he had been doing. He let go of the boy's arm that he was holding and tried to pull away but he was still too weak to move.

"Why did you do this? I told you I didn't want-"

"If I hadn't done it you would be dead by now!"

"No! I can't... I can't die from this... only if my heart is destroyed..."

"So there was something true in the legends."

Ulrich tried to laugh but it only made his body ache. This time he really was in trouble, and he couldn't forgive himself for having put this boy he loved in more trouble. He knew there was only one thing to do, but he wasn't allowed to take that risk. It was too dangerous. But he couldn't try to get his powers back with the boy's blood. He was too weak, this time. He would need too much blood, Quentin wouldn't survive this. He couldn't decide what to do. If only he hadn't refuse the boy's blood... He would have been powerful enough when the king discovered them to neutralize him. But that was the past, and he couldn't change it. He had to think about the future. He could accept their fate and do nothing. They would both die, or maybe he would be sent back to his previous state, but they would both suffer again, and he couldn't stand the idea of letting someone harms his beloved Quentin. The only solution wasn't better, but it seemed to be the only one left to them.

He had to do this. He would deal with the consequences later. He tried the sit but his body still refused.

"Help me Quentin, I need to sit."

"No, don't move, I'll take care of you."

"I must sit!"

Quentin sighed and pulled him to a sitting position against the stone wall. Ulrich placed a soothing hand on the boy's thigh.

"Close your eyes, darling."

The boy obeyed and the vampire took his own arm to his mouth. Biting it he tore a small bit of flesh and winced at the pain. He started chewing it then turned to face the boy, their lips nearly touching.

"Open your mouth, sweet heart, and swallow."

He kissed the boy, pushing the chewed flesh in his mouth with his tongue, then drew away. Quentin obediently swallowed what had been placed in his mouth then frowned.

"That was meat... where did you find it?"

His eyes opened wide when he saw the vampire's arm and realized where the meat came from. He felt nauseous: he had just eaten human flesh! That couldn't be possible!

"What did you do? Why did you order me to do this? It's... it's..."

"It's the only way to take us out."

"Are you insane? I think you have lost too many blood, you're not thinking straight."

"Will you quiet for a while? We don't have much time. I'll have to teach you some things before dawn."

"My head is spinning. What's happening, did you poison me?"

"I'll never do that! You should lay down and calm yourself. It won't be long."

He pushed the boy to the ground and placed a hand on the trembling brow. He had seen this only once, when he was a boy. And he had been the one who experienced it. But this time, he didn't really know what would happen. He had been told how to make a vampire from a white magic user, not from a black magic user. It was forbidden, he had been told that this kind of vampire was closer to a demon than to a human. But Quentin was different from the very few purple haired people he had seen... The boy's body had become quiet. Quentin sat and look at Ulrich with an amazed expression.

"How do you feel?"

"Better than I've ever felt. What happened?"

"We're totally alike, now."

"You mean I am... But you said you won't do this to me. You almost sounded angry when I asked you."

"I had no choice. Now we must hurry. You have to learn some basic spells."

Two hours or so later, Quentin yelled for help. When a guard came he almost choked with the smoke of the burning straw.

"How did it happen? How did you set it on fire, bastard!"

"You don't need to know."

Quentin grabbed the man and held him in front of Ulrich. The vampire sank his fangs in the guard's neck and drank as much as he could, careful not to kill him. He wasn't a killer and he didn't want this to change. He would have to make sure Quentin followed that rule, too. When he felt his powers back, he extinguished the fire and dropped the unconscious guard on the floor.

"Quick, Ulrich, we must get out of the castle!"

"No. We must find the king."

"What? Are you mad?! We've been in enough trouble for my taste. Let's get out!"

"Get out if you want, I'll find the king. I'll meet you later, don't worry."

"Don't think of getting anywhere without me. You know we need each other to get out. We need to combine our powers, that's what you told me. I come with you."

Ulrich sighed. The boy had changed from the quiet and desperate young man he still was the previous days and had become self-confident. Quentin was so sure that they would finally get free, maybe he needed to be watched over. He was inexperienced and using his new powers rashly could be dangerous for both of them. They closed the cell to prevent the guard from running out for help when he'd wake. No one was supposed to come there before dawn, their disappearance wouldn't be noticed before a few hours. All they had to do was reaching the king's room without being noticed. They ran up the stairs from the cells to a corridor where two guards were supposed to patrol. Ulrich stopped a few stairs before arriving in the corridor and caught Quentin's arm.

"Wait! There are guards here that could see us. It's very late and if we're lucky they won't be attentive. I won't hope they'd be asleep. But if they're patrolling as they're supposed to do, we must be very careful. Did you notice the armors and torches along the walls?"

"Yes. What do you suggest? Throwing the armors at the guards or setting these guys on fire with the torches?"

"It's not the moment to joke, Quentin. You're not serious enough. Don't be so sure of your skills. You're only a novice."

Quentin looked hurt for a while then smiled.

"You're right. But it's just... I can't help it, it's like a voice in my head telling me how strong I am now. But it's not a voice, it's more a feeling..."

"I have felt it too, when I had been made a vampire. You'll get used to it. I found it strange and funny, at first, but I didn't notice it anymore after a few weeks."

"I'll try to be a good boy. What's your plan?"

"We crawl on the last stairs and look where the guards are. If their backs are turned and they're not too far away, we move quickly to hide against an armor, one against each wall and we move from armor to armor until they turn around to come this way. Then we'll be able to leave by the corridor to the right."

"But they will see us. The armors are big enough to hide us but when they'll arrive where we are, they'll see us."

"Not if the torches aren't lit. I'll take care of this. When they'll start turning around, I'll do it. I just hope I'm still fast enough..."

"Am I supposed to be confident?"

"Enough! How dare you...?"

Ulrich chuckled and they both crawled up the stairs. As he had thought, they weren't sleeping. At least the king still chose serious guards, as his ancestors did. But as he could judge from their speed, they were tired, and Quentin and him were in form. They had a chance, then. They waited to be sure the guards wouldn't turn in their walk, then swiftly hid behind the first armors. Ulrich leaned a little forward and saw that the men still had their backs turned. He motioned for Quentin to go to the next armor a few meters away. They continued like this along the passage and arrived in time against the last armors to let Ulrich use his magic to blow the torches above their heads. The guards stopped their progression and were about to turn when a third one called them. The two vampires exchanged a worried look, but the third man seemed to be looking for company. They waited patiently a few minutes, then the guards started their path back towards the stairs. Both vampires stood still, without even daring to breath, until the two guards were far enough. Then they rushed and turned to the right. There was nobody in the new passage and Quentin stopped his companion.

"Wait, you can't go on like this."

"What do you mean?"

"You're almost naked! That wouldn't go unnoticed, believe me."

The boy's eyes were roaming over the man's body and he had an appreciative smile on his lips. Ulrich gathered his clothes around him, staring at the boy with an indignant look.

"Stop looking at me this way, I feel more naked than I already am! I know what's in your mind, but we don't have the time for this now."

Quentin laughed and led the man through doors and corridor, stopping in a storage room to steal some clothes. They finally arrived near a large stairway and the boy stopped a few meters away.

"The king's room is upstairs. There are two guards here, and two more in front of his door. How will we get them out of the way? We can't hide, this time."

Ulrich looked around, looking for something useful. There were a lot of carpets and tapestries, but if he tried setting them on fire, the guards would be discarded only briefly, and the king would come out to see what's happening. He could throw objects on the floor, but that would only distract the guards downstairs, not the ones guarding the door. Quentin looked at the serious face of his friend and got worried. What will they do if he don't find a way to go up? If only the man had followed him outside instead of wanting to go find the king. And then, if the find him, what will he do? Kill him? Ulrich was not a killer, Quentin was sure about that. So why did he insist on finding the king?

"Mice!"

Quentin started and looked at the man astonished.

"What?"

"There are always mice or rats in a castle. They have so many places to hide and so many things to eat... I'll call them, they'll run all over the place and distract the guards. All I have to do then is order them to go somewhere else, I'm sure the guards will follow them and call for help. That won't be enough to take the king out of his room, and there will be no one to stop us upstairs."

Quentin looked at him in wonder. Maybe the man wasn't serious, or maybe he hadn't all his senses.

"You're speaking with mice, now?"

"Speaking? You think I'm a fool, that's it? I only said I wanted to call them and give them orders. I know a way to get in some beings' minds. How do you think I sent all these feelings to you when I still was in my marble prison? You doubt me, now..."

Quentin felt sorry when he heard the bitter tone in the man's voice. Bitter and sad. Ulrich had turned his back to him and seemed to be thinking. The boy realized it wasn't the time for a lovers' fight. It was true, he had doubted him. It was unfair, and he knew it. In the short time they had been together, all of the man's actions had always been for Quentin safety and welfare, and now that he wanted to do something for himself, Quentin was acting like a spoiled child. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around the man's waist, resting his head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I know I can trust you. I won't put your ideas into doubt."

"I'm not asking you to follow me blindly. I just have more experience than you. I was skeptical for a lot of things I was taught when I was young until I had to face them. So I learnt to trust my teachers. Power is nothing without experience."

Quentin smiled. His lover's tone had softened. Something told him that he was going to have a lot of lessons like this one in the future. As long as they came from this man, he wasn't going to complain. Ulrich closed his eyes and whispered something that Quentin couldn't understand. The man seemed to focus on this incomprehensible sentence he was repeating again and again. Then Quentin saw them. A single running mouse, at first, then two others, and soon dozens of mice and rats were running towards them. Quentin was amazed by this prowess and by the numbers of rodents he saw. He had never thought that this always clean castle hosted so many of them. Ulrich had opened his eyes and was watching the guards. They were looking at the invasion around them, trying to push the little furballs away. Quentin saw some of the small invaders climbing the stairs and quickly running down, followed by the two other guards. Ulrich murmured something and all the rodents ran towards the way they came from, followed by four angry guards. Ulrich turned to Quentin. The boy nodded an they rushed to the stairs, running to the king's door. They opened it using one of Ulrich's tricks and entered.

The king was asleep, totally unaware of the little chaos outside. Quentin looked at the man with disgust then turned to Ulrich.

"Are you going to kill him?"

"I told you..."

"...you don't kill, I know. But what he did to me was worse than if he had killed me."

The king woke and looked at them in shock. He knew that calling the guards could mean instant death for him. He knew that the man in front of him was powerful.

"What are you doing here? How did you get here, how did you escape?"

"I don't think you're the one to ask questions, here. I didn't come here to answer your questions but to ask you some. What do you know about me?"

"A lot of things. My ancestors used to keep records of everything, as I do. Official and private records. I read them, as my father did, and his father before."

"So you know that the king in my time managed to get rid of me to have my wife. Did he write this?"

"Yes... If you knew it and your father and grandfather knew it too, why nobody tried to free me? Why did he do that to me, I was his friend, I could have died for him. Why did he betray me? Did he write it, too?"

"He was afraid of you."

"Afraid? I never did anything against him or against his will. Why should have he been afraid of me?"

"He thought... he thought you knew. He thought that people had told you. A few people knew. He was afraid you could have tried to get rid of him."

"Knew what? And why would I do something like this?"

"Because you were his brother."

Ulrich searched for a place to sit. He had expected anything but this. Quentin was concerned by the look of shock on his lover's face, but the man quickly recovered.

"That's why he didn't kill me. Not because I was a vampire but because I was his brother..."

"Yes."

"So I'm a bastard... That means the king's father did the same thing than he, he took someone else's wife. Is there something wrong with the males in your family? Do you realize what you've been doing to this boy for all these years? I wonder what where your father's and grandfather's depravities..."

"It's written too..."

Quentin shot an enraged look at the king.

"What do you mean? There's something in your blood that's forcing you to act like this? Maybe you want me to feel sorry for you!"

"It's a curse. A long time ago, someone cursed my family. Someone like you, Quentin. A sorcerer with purple hair."

"I'm not like this! I'm not evil! Not like you. You took me here to make me pay for what this man did to your family?"

"No, I loved you. I took you here only for this."

"I don't believe you!"

Quentin had grabbed a sword and was about to kill his captor but Ulrich stopped him.

"Don't. You would become like the sorcerer who's responsible for all this. That would be evil."

"And what he did to me, you don't call it evil? I don't understand you. You say you love me but you protect this monster!"

"Did he kill you? He made you suffer. You don't need to kill him to make him pay. What's worse, suffering or dying?"

An evil smile appeared on the boy's lips. He pulled the sheets away from the king and raised the sword.

"You'll pay by where you sinned.

"Quentin, no!"

Ulrich was not quick enough to stop the boy. Blood quickly soaked the sheets under the king's body. The man opened his mouth but was too shocked to cry, but his pain was clearly showed on his face. Quentin looked satisfied. Ulrich took the sword from the boy's hands.

"What have you done! Are you mad?"

"I think that now he knows what suffering means. Are you going to let him bleed like a pig or do you want to save him?"

Ulrich healed the wound quickly. The king had passed out, but he was safe. Ulrich sighed and looked at Quentin, a small smile forming on his lips.

"What? I took my revenge and I freed him from his family's curse. Now he won't have descendants any more. No more males to cary on the malediction. Oh, please take that piece of meat away, I've seen it enough in these two years."

"Quentin, THAT was evil!"

Ulrich's laugh faded when the king regained consciousness. He still had questions for that man, but he wasn't sure the king could answer them now. He hoped the shock hadn't caused him to lose his mind. The king looked at Quentin with terror. The boy had changed so much in a few hours. He could see hatred on this face that used to look so innocent and fragile.

"Quentin, why? I would have preferred you killed me instead of doing me this!"

"That's exactly what I've been thinking every time you came to my room. Maybe now you'll understand what you've done to me, what moral and physical suffering I've been through. The only difference is that you deserve this."

"But I loved you."

"You loved my body and your dominance! That doesn't make you love me! Have you ever wondered what I was feeling or wanting? If you had loved me, you wouldn't have kept me trapped here, you wouldn't have made me suffer this humiliation all those nights."

The boy couldn't keep his control anymore. His voice was shaking and tears were running along his cheeks. Ulrich wrapped an arm around his waist and held him, trying to comfort him. The king looked at the man expectantly. From what he had been reading, this vampire was someone fair. But Ulrich looked determinate and the king wondered if he had any chance to coax him.

"What... what are you going to do, now?"

"It depends on you. On what you're willing to offer us."

Quentin tried to object but Ulrich raised a hand to silence him. The king looked at them questioningly.

"What do you want from me?"

"You must free Quentin. He must be free in order to be the heir to the throne."

"What? Are you mad? I may not have a son but I have daughters that should-"

"You're the one mad, here, and you're in no position to object!"

The king looked in fear at the suddenly menacing vampire.

"Alright, he's free. I'll let him go. But... How do you plan to explain this boy who's known as my lover would become my son? It's the only way he can be my heir."

"Roman emperors adopted people that had nothing to do with their family. The succession was in the trust. Adopt Quentin."

"It will be difficult..."

"Wait a minute! I don't want to become that pig's son."

"Quentin, please, let me handle this. I promise you won't regret it. Well, sire, what are you going to do?"

"I told you, it will be difficult. And you won't be able to stay with your precious Quentin. Remember, Ulrich, you're supposed to be dead."

"I'm not. And you're going to tell the truth to your people."

"What? Are you mad? That would be telling them I am..."

"The descendant of depraved traitors, who's vice practically destroyed one of your younger subjects? I wonder how everyone in the kingdom will react."

"You know they would disapprove. What do you really want from me?"

"Abdicate. Quentin will take your place. I can't hide the fact that you'll be judged for your crimes."

The king looked lost. It could have seemed foolish to try to give him that kind of orders. But he knew that the man in front of him was powerful enough to make him pay in his own way. And that would be worse than any other kind of punishment. He had been a good king, he had always tried to do his best for his subjects. That could be taken into account. The king sighed sadly, resigned to his fate.

"I don't think I had the choice."

A few weeks later a nervous Quentin was trying to stay calm as he waited in his room, fully dressed for the coronation. Ulrich sat by his side, staring at him in adoration. Everything had turned out as he had expected. The king had adopted Quentin and abdicated, living him the direction of the kingdom. The people had approved the will of their new ruler to judge the fallen king. And now, Quentin and Ulrich were about to have their revenges.

A servant knocked and informed the soon to be king that he was expected. Both men followed him outside and walked a few steps in the corridor when a group of a dozen guards rushed on them and tried to attack. It was a small faction that had remained loyal to the other king and only saw an usurper in Quentin. The boy reacted faster and before Ulrich could stop him he throw a wall of flames to the men who cried in terror and pain. Ulrich extinguished the fire but it was already too late. The guards were dead. The older vampire looked at them in disbelief.

"No... Quentin, what have you done... I told you you should never take lives. Why didn't you listen to me? You don't even know what you've done!"

"Oh, yes! I should have let them kill us, of course. What did you want me to do?!"

"There are other ways. I already taught you some, and I planed to teach you some more. But now... I think you're not aware of what you've done."

"But they tried to kill us, I just wanted to protect us."

"I'm sorry to tell you this but we can't stay here."

"All right, let's go back to my room."

"No, you don't understand, we must leave the kingdom."

Quentin looked at his companion, confused. He couldn't understand why they had to run away. They were the ones who had been attacked, and Ulrich seemed to think they were at fault.

"I don't understand. Do you mean we're going away and we won't come back? Just like this? What will people think?"

"I'll explain what happened, you won't be dishonored. If you have some belongings you want to take with you, go get them quickly."

"I only have you."

"Then we must go."

They quickly followed a few corridor, stopping only once to pick a small chest full of gold and jewels, knowing they would need it outside. They quickly reached the gardens then went outside. Ulrich stopped as Quentin suddenly laughed.

"What's so funny, darling?"

"I was just thinking that when I was inside I longed to be free and go outside. Now that I'm outside the Castle, I have to run away and I still don't feel free. I guess it's my fate..."

"I'm so sorry, Quentin. Maybe it's my fault, I should have warned you before. You had a kind of choice. I told you your nature was evil but you were deeply good. If only I hadn't taught you the use of fire... You instinctively used a black magic fire spell, based on the one I taught you. But unlike my spell, yours was a destructive one. You cast death by fire. That sealed your destiny. I should have never made you a vampire."

"So it means... I'm a sorcerer, now... A demon! But I'm not evil! I don't want to be like that!"

"What did you feel when you attacked these guards? What were you thinking?"

"I was... mad. I wanted them to die. But it was just to protect us! They wanted to kill us!"

"But you knew there were other ways. You just followed your heart."

Quentin looked at him pleadingly with tears in his eyes.

"Please... Don't let me... don't leave me!"

"Leave you? I love you, I can't leave you. And I must stay with you to guard you. You're dangerous, now. I must protect you from yourself. You're not totally lost, but I can't go on teaching you new spells that you could turn into black magic again. You'll be a healer. I can't take another risk..."

Years had passed and the two vampires had settled in a region were no one could know their past. They were occasionally offering their help as healers and the nearby villagers liked and respected them. As he had promised, Ulrich had announced what had happened, explaining that Quentin's presence could endanger his people and that he had chosen to leave. Everybody blamed the guards and regretted that their new king had to leave. The kingdom needed a new leader. Ulrich had been observing what had happened there after they left. The king's older daughter had been married and designed to be queen, but the royal couple had been murdered only a few months after the coronation without leaving any child. The king's younger daughter had then been declared queen, but when it had been discovered that she had ordered her sister's murder she had been forced to abdicate. Some said she escaped, other assured she had been put in a dungeon. After this the kingdom had fallen to the hands of various leaders who only wanted power, letting the people starve. For years the situation had been from illness and starvation to civil war.

Ulrich sighed as he read the records he had been keeping of the kingdom's history. What a mess! All these lives wasted just because a king hadn't been able to ignore his vice. Gentle hands rested on Ulrich's shoulders, massaging slightly. Quentin leaned and placed a kiss on the man's neck.

"You're still reading this book? Why do you keep on writing in it? It's useless, now. We can't change what happened, and we can't change what's happening now."

"I feel I must do it."

"Why? Because you still think you're responsible? You couldn't know I would kill."

"You should have never been made a vampire. It was my fault."

"We would be dead if you hadn't done it. Stop torturing yourself with this. This kingdom doesn't need you. I need you."

He wrapped his arms around the older vampire's chest and rested his head on his shoulder. Ulrich sighed and closed the book. The boy was right. He couldn't help these people, but he had to take care of his young companion. He smiled and stroke the boy's purple hair.

"Quentin..."

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Note:
This was supposed to be a very short story inspired by two pictures I made with Poser: a purple haired boy and a marble man embracing. I did it a while ago and when I watched it again I had the idea for the beginning of a story. I wrote and kept writing without even knowing how it would end. Strange... Maybe a gang of muses were passing by and stopped for a while! ^_^

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