Post by Jansth on Oct 2, 2013 3:56:23 GMT -8
My sire was an interesting man, a careful man, and a quiet man. In my tutelage under his care, he never did freely speak of himself; of his personal thoughts, or of his past which was surely shrouded in darkness and mystery. But as the years flowed past and I began to show potential in my intended place in life, he began to allow me glimpses into his guarded mind, and I would like to think that we may have begun to grow close at least, as we gradually grew accustomed to each other.
These glimpses, which began to grow as precious to me as glasses of water sparingly given to a man held prisoner in the desert. Each drop giving me some refreshing insight into the many faceted mind of one I could only look on with distant adoration and respect. Each drop instilling within me some deeper meaning, and some connection, meager as it might be, to the sanity I strive to retain as I am plunged into this dismal world of darkness.
Every month he would indulge me one question. Sometimes he would answer in pristine depth, others use the moment to chastise me for the mundane limits my fresh mind sometimes failed to crest. Sometimes he spoke artfully, surprising me with his imagination and creativity, and sometimes he answered with blunt shrewdness that often made me feel unfulfilled, as if he had tried to squelch on our deal. It was not until much later that I came to understand that my master was not all knowing or at all infallible, and that he was just as capable at succumbing to emotion or feelings of meaninglessness as I.
In these next pages, I will try my best to recount the words of that most gracious of masters; that the memory of his mind will never cease to be. Long past the day that they will fade from this existence.
(Interview with a Vampire: KÁN - except from ÀKOS' journal. [IWA #1: Dream a Little Dream.])
“Master KÁN. Last night I had a terrible dream. I dreamed that I was in a dark city, composed of shadow and wailing. All about me were droves of the lifeless living; trudging lines of dead eyed mortals who toiled away their wasted lives on pointless dimming dreams.
From the grey skies lightning flashed and acid rained down and melted away all the flesh, so that the city was left stark and bare as bleached bone. Then just as I thought the rain would dissolve the whole of the earth, the clouds parted and a mighty and fearsome dragon, with shining scales of onyx glass, swooped down from the heavens and swallowed everything, leaving me alone in utter blackness.”
KÁN looked at me patiently, one brow piqued curiously, yet at the same time seeming to look completely unimpressed. I think he knew a question would soon be coming. So many times did I see that calm expression and it took me too long to recognize it for the friendly and accepting stare that it was.
“I don’t know what these dreams mean, sire, and I’m not entirely eager to know, to tell you the truth. But it made me curious, and I wanted to know if you still dreamt, even if you do not truly sleep. I would hate to think the long days you lay in rest would be unbroken with nothingness.”
My masters’ expression darkened considerably, and at first I thought my question may have upset him. But then he pursed his lips and popped his throat as he sometimes needed to do in order to speak, and he answered me in a most unexpected way.
“Young ÀKOS, so many Kindred and Noble dead ponder that very sentiment so much, yet I hardly see the point. I imagine that they all see fantastic things while they lay in torpor, or else they simply lie about it for the sake of conversation.
I myself dream of blackness.”
He paused after he said that, as if it was a suitable explanation, and I almost left it at that. Then he surprised me by elaborating further.
“Blackness, that is, not to be confused with nothingness. From the moment my mind slips from the waking world I view an immense darkness which contains nothing and all things at once. Like light and darkness have come together and canceled each other out.
For the entirety of the ‘dream’, if it can be called such, I have so vivid a memory of such perfect blackness. Broken only at the end by the sunrise. As beautiful and as stunning as ever I have seen one, yet viewed through the gently rippling surface of a lake of crystalline water.”
The simple brevity of his description struck me as both empty and fulfilling as his description Entailed. It left me both sad and happy for him as well, that he had such a brilliant memory of something he was destined to never know again. Then it struck me as I looked at him looking back at me with his expression blank in study of that of my own.
...but I suppose I will never know in the end, whether he was lying or not.
These glimpses, which began to grow as precious to me as glasses of water sparingly given to a man held prisoner in the desert. Each drop giving me some refreshing insight into the many faceted mind of one I could only look on with distant adoration and respect. Each drop instilling within me some deeper meaning, and some connection, meager as it might be, to the sanity I strive to retain as I am plunged into this dismal world of darkness.
Every month he would indulge me one question. Sometimes he would answer in pristine depth, others use the moment to chastise me for the mundane limits my fresh mind sometimes failed to crest. Sometimes he spoke artfully, surprising me with his imagination and creativity, and sometimes he answered with blunt shrewdness that often made me feel unfulfilled, as if he had tried to squelch on our deal. It was not until much later that I came to understand that my master was not all knowing or at all infallible, and that he was just as capable at succumbing to emotion or feelings of meaninglessness as I.
In these next pages, I will try my best to recount the words of that most gracious of masters; that the memory of his mind will never cease to be. Long past the day that they will fade from this existence.
(Interview with a Vampire: KÁN - except from ÀKOS' journal. [IWA #1: Dream a Little Dream.])
“Master KÁN. Last night I had a terrible dream. I dreamed that I was in a dark city, composed of shadow and wailing. All about me were droves of the lifeless living; trudging lines of dead eyed mortals who toiled away their wasted lives on pointless dimming dreams.
From the grey skies lightning flashed and acid rained down and melted away all the flesh, so that the city was left stark and bare as bleached bone. Then just as I thought the rain would dissolve the whole of the earth, the clouds parted and a mighty and fearsome dragon, with shining scales of onyx glass, swooped down from the heavens and swallowed everything, leaving me alone in utter blackness.”
KÁN looked at me patiently, one brow piqued curiously, yet at the same time seeming to look completely unimpressed. I think he knew a question would soon be coming. So many times did I see that calm expression and it took me too long to recognize it for the friendly and accepting stare that it was.
“I don’t know what these dreams mean, sire, and I’m not entirely eager to know, to tell you the truth. But it made me curious, and I wanted to know if you still dreamt, even if you do not truly sleep. I would hate to think the long days you lay in rest would be unbroken with nothingness.”
My masters’ expression darkened considerably, and at first I thought my question may have upset him. But then he pursed his lips and popped his throat as he sometimes needed to do in order to speak, and he answered me in a most unexpected way.
“Young ÀKOS, so many Kindred and Noble dead ponder that very sentiment so much, yet I hardly see the point. I imagine that they all see fantastic things while they lay in torpor, or else they simply lie about it for the sake of conversation.
I myself dream of blackness.”
He paused after he said that, as if it was a suitable explanation, and I almost left it at that. Then he surprised me by elaborating further.
“Blackness, that is, not to be confused with nothingness. From the moment my mind slips from the waking world I view an immense darkness which contains nothing and all things at once. Like light and darkness have come together and canceled each other out.
For the entirety of the ‘dream’, if it can be called such, I have so vivid a memory of such perfect blackness. Broken only at the end by the sunrise. As beautiful and as stunning as ever I have seen one, yet viewed through the gently rippling surface of a lake of crystalline water.”
The simple brevity of his description struck me as both empty and fulfilling as his description Entailed. It left me both sad and happy for him as well, that he had such a brilliant memory of something he was destined to never know again. Then it struck me as I looked at him looking back at me with his expression blank in study of that of my own.
...but I suppose I will never know in the end, whether he was lying or not.
