Jeremiah’s Tale, part 7
Six months later:
A frigid wind howled through the deserted streets of Old Windemer, blowing tiny snowflakes that fell more horizontally than vertically. In the shadows of long-empty doorways, vague figures rustled and moved, their eyes shining in the fading winter sunlight. But they did not come out into the open, even when a slender man tightly wrapped in a thick cloak passed by, though their noses told them that this was fresh, juicy, living meat. They sensed something in the man’s aura, and slunk away in search of easier prey.
He came to a large domed building on a broad avenue lined with long-dead birch trees. Carefully he tested the magical wards surrounding the building, finding a place where he could slip through unharmed. But not unnoticed; he had no wish to take the building’s guardian by surprise.
The main hall’s ancient bronze doors swung easily on their hinges, opening up into a large round hall. The man walked slowly to the center of the hall, directly beneath the center of the dome. He peered into the many shadowy doorways that led deeper into the building.
“Diana,” he whispered softly.
From out of the darkness, a woman’s voice replied, “Jeremiah?”
She came from out of the shadows, making not a sound. A silver band held her jet-black hair back from her face, and enormous dark eyes shone from a bone-white face. Her dress was the palest of blues, sleeveless and of a silken fabric so thin it was barely there. She seemed not to notice the frigid air of the hall.
She moved impossibly smoothly, not quite floating across the floor towards Jeremiah. When she reached him she stopped, and held a hand out to him. “It is you,” she said. “I didn’t expect you would be back so soon.”
“And yet,” was his simple response.
“Have you…” Diana began, then hesitated. “Have you come to join me, as I offered?”
The young man shook his head. “I only came to return this.”
He reached out his hand, cradling a small purplish orb in his palm. The vampire reached out and took it slowly, her face a mask of astonishment.
“Why?” she asked.
Jeremiah seemed to deflate a bit. “It’s too much,” he said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.
Diana reached out and took his hand in hers. “Come,” she commanded, leading him to one side of the hall, where a marble bench stood against a wall. “Sit.” She took a seat next to him, close but not quite touching him.
“Now, tell me what brought you here,” she said softly, looking into his eyes.
Jeremiah did not meet her gaze, instead staring at the floor in front of him. “I tried,” he said. “I tried to do good…” Then, with more conviction, “No. I did good. I tried to help people as best I could, to defend the powerless against the powerful.” He shook his head. “They hated me for it.”
“You used the orb?”
“Only once,” he admitted. “After that, after I saw how much it frightened people, I tried other ways. Still, they were more afraid of me than of those who robbed and beat and oppressed them.” He sighed. “I wanted so much to make them see… It became a constant temptation. I knew that with the orb I could make people understand what I was doing. But if I did that, I’d be precisely the monster they thought I was.”
“So you brought it back to me.”
“You were right, Diana. It was corrupting me. I was becoming… someone I didn’t want to be.”
“But still, to have the strength to give it up…” She slid close to him and leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. “I underestimated you, Jeremiah.”
“No,” he said sadly. “I was… arrogant. Reckless. So convinced of my own righteousness that I couldn’t understand how others would see me. I’m not a hero, Diana. I was foolish to think I might be. I’m just a shepherd who has some skill with mana.”
“You are much more than that to me,” the vampire murmured, looking up at him.
Jeremiah looked back down into her eyes, startled by her admission. She smiled, and leaned up until their lips met. Then she was sitting in his lap, holding him tightly, as their kiss grew more passionate.
After a minute they stopped, and she pressed her face against his chest.
“You are cold, Diana,” Jeremiah whispered.
Her shoulders slumped then, and she pulled away slightly. “I know,” she said. “I’m a fool.”
They were both silent for a moment, and then she continued, “I have thought about you often since we first met, Jeremiah. You are the most interesting person I have met in – well, centuries. And in case nobody has told you, you are also quite handsome. I allowed myself to fantasize about you on occasion.” She looked up at him and added, “When I heard your voice in the hall, for a moment I allowed myself to hope that you had come back… for me.”
“I am sorry,” he answered.
“It’s my own fault,” she said. “I let my feelings run away with me. It’s… unwise, for someone such as me.”
“Are you saying that you love me?”
“Who knows?” Diana shrugged. “Desire, yes. I definitely desire you. But love? I don’t know if I’m capable of that. I don’t know that I ever was.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Then you know why I can’t stay.”
“I know,” she said. “You deserve better.” She laughed then, and held up the mind orb. “You know, it just occurred to me. With this, I could make you stay.” She sighed. “But if I did, I would destroy everything about you that makes me want you to stay.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“No need to feel sorry for me. I still have what I have always had. The Silver Citadel is mine, and all the knowledge within. It would take me thousands of years to learn everything there is to learn here.”
“It sounds lonely.”
“It is. But I have always been lonely.” She leaned against him once more, and asked, “Where will you go now, Jeremiah?”
“Away,” he said. “I’ll try to find a place where I can forget about the world and let it forget about me. Perhaps I’ll tend a flock of sheep.”
“It sounds lonely.”
“I’ll have a sheepdog or two for company.”
“Oh, I see. Much better, yes.” She let out a small laugh. “So is this how we part, Lord Jeremiah the Black? You go off to sit alone on a cold mountain with your sheep, and I stay here in this cold dark hall with my books? With all our power, this is what we have come to?”
“Power,” Jeremiah scoffed. “I never wanted it. What has it ever brought me but sorrow?”
She stood then, and took both his hands in hers. “I hope you find the peace you are searching for, Jeremiah,” she said.
He stood as well, and pulled her close, leaning down to kiss her once more. “Farewell, my lady,” he murmured.
“Should your feelings for me ever change,” she whispered back, “I will be here.”
They parted then, and he vanished into the night.
She did not cry at his departure. Vampires are not capable of tears.