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13 Whitemoon, 2E 222
I'm not really sure what possessed me to throw that brick.
Four men were harassing a homeless woman in an alley and no one would speak up for her. Before I realized what was happening, the brick had left my hand, sailing through the air into the back of one man's head. He fell noisily to the ground, then his friends turned their attention to me.
The woman ran without a word. I don't fault her for that.
I tried to defend myself, but I was outnumbered. Now I'm just trying to curl up on the ground to keep their beating from doing too much damage. I think they cracked a rib just now. They're not stopping, why aren't they stopping? The one I hit with the brick, he's still alive, he's joined in and
I can hear a sharp whistle above their jeers. I try to look to see who it was and one of the men kicks me in the face for my trouble. Then I hear a pained shout. I look up, the one that kicked me is bleeding from the arm. They turn their attention away from me and I manage to catch a blurred glimpse of my would-be savior. She looks tall, I see dark burgundy hair and pale skin, and some kind of purple outfit, but it's all muddied by my watery eyes.
"Oh, that's rich. Prissy little princess thinks she's gonna play hero," one of the men sneers.
I see a glint of steel in the redhead's hand as I cough up blood. It's a familiar taste, not a pleasant one. I feel panic gripping my heart as the woman steps toward us; don't get yourself killed for me, please. "Strike her once more, and you will all die. Dare not mistake my warning for weakness." They stare each other down for a time, long enough for me to refocus my eyes. The blade she's holding is small and viciously barbed, meant to tear and tangle, not to cut clean.
The heavy silence is finally broken by the leader of the men. "We're done here," he says gruffly, marching away in a huff with his goons following behind.
The woman slowly approaches me after they flee and kneels down next to me. "Hey... hey, it's all right. I'll help you up, lean on me," she says in a near-whisper. Her voice is positively entrancing, almost making me forget all the pain. She helps me to sit up, then puts my arm around her shoulders so I may regain my footing. She's wearing a simple dark purple dress with an embroidered black and pale yellow sash around her waist, and a black cloak over it all. And her eyes are such a beautiful shade of blue, indigo really, with... with tall, narrow irises... "Fear not, dear. You are far more than a mere meal, to me."
"But- I'm- You're-" I sputter. I feel I've gone from the cauldron to the fire now. I know the rumors about the Countess, but...
"Vampire, yes. But we're not mindless parasites, dear girl. Most of us, leastways," she replies, sounding like she expected my response. I suppose it's normal for her. I lean against the wall of the alley and look over her, trying to gauge her intent. Her blades have returned to wherever it is she keeps them, and she now looks for all the world like a somewhat well-off commoner. Only her eyes betray her. "Luna Crescent," she says, by way of introduction. She must have heard my unspoken question, as she shakes her head and quietly adds, "Father's surname, grandmother's given name. A coincidence some find amusement in. And, I believe you were Raven, correct?"
My balance is steadying as I nod, "Yeah, Raven. Raven Silmane. But... why did you help me?" I ask, my voice creaking and whining from pain.
"I've seen you before," Luna replies. "I come here from time to time, for the Countess's fetes. Immortality is lonely without someone to share it with, you know. And of course there are those that would see us dead, so we share information."
I hadn't thought about it, it never seemed relevant to my life, but she sounds sincere. "What does that have to do with me?" I ask. For all the effort I put into trying to sound tough, though, my voice remains strained from pain, and my attempted facade of strength falters further because a tucked-away part of me wants to be a part of it. Before she can answer, alarm bells ring out. "Is that- that's the fire alarm, it's coming- agh, chest!" It's coming from across town, but terrible pain in my chest stops me short. "We need to help," I say, wincing as another stabbing pain shoots through me.
"This is why you caught my eye, you realize. I always see you helping people, with never a thought for yourself." She sighs and puts her arm around me again. Leaning on her feels more natural this time, but I still hate needing the help. I'm supposed to help other people, it's- it's-
"... it's the only thing I'm good for..." I mumble, closing my eyes and trying to tune out the pain, that sharp, hateful jolt that returns with every breath.
She stops walking abruptly when she realizes what I said. She turns and embraces me, whispering, "Please. Please never see yourself that way." She then just holds me for a time in a gentle hug, running her fingers through my hair. Though she gets caught on tangles and knots a few times, it... it does feel nice. Before long, I realize I've returned her embrace and I'm leaning into her shoulder. "We are more than our value to another," she whispers. "This world will take everything and leave you with nothing if you let it."
When she pulls away, all I can say is, "I still have to try. Let's go see if we can help. Please, Luna."
She smiles sadly, sighing as she helps me walk down the road. She's watching me the whole time, and not really hiding it. As my footing gets steadier, I feel her arm shift from my shoulders, her hand moving to try to gently massage the pain away. And at first, it does help; not so much the touch itself as what it means. That there's someone there, that this all will turn out alright.
Until, that is, we round the corner to see where the fire was. It was my house, once. Before that, it was my parents'. Now... now nothing but a ruin. The blaze hasn't taken it fully yet, but it's beyond the point of no return; now even if the fire stops, there's no salvaging it. I see three familiar shapes ducking into an alley and immediately know it wasn't an accident.
"I see them," Luna says. "They'll be dealt with." There's a disquieting finality in how she says that, but I won't deny taking some pleasure in it. "There's a gathering scheduled at the Countess's manor tomorrow night, that's why I'm in town. Come with me, I'm sure she'll have a room for you."
The only question running through my mind is, why? All I ever wanted... "all i ever wanted was to help", I hoarsely plead, sinking to the ground with tears flooding my eyes. "why?"
Luna kneels next to me and holds me close. Briefly I see that she's put her cloak's hood up, but... even if she is ashamed of it, I'm glad she's here. I'm glad someone's here. I've lost everything, my only hope is the charity of a vampire. The irony is a surer kick in the gut than the actual kicks in the gut I just got. My weeping feels like it lasts forever, and the whole time she's gently rocking me back and forth, whispering sweetly into my ear. "You... you were right," I eventually gasp, taking shaky, labored breaths. "But... But..."
"But you don't regret it at all, do you?" she asks, knowing what I wanted to say. I sniffle and nod. "You are far too loving for a world like this," she says sadly, wiping my tears away. "This... might be a bad time, but I was hoping to find a guest for tomorrow's event. Of course I'll help you either way. I'll ensure you have a place and the means to recover, I promise."
Am I being courted by a vampire? Well, she seems nice enough, and she's really quite a lovely woman. Though garbed like a mildly well-off peasant, her face has the look of nobility. Not the reality of it, but the stories, what nobility tries to portray itself as - elegant, dignified, with eyes that can see the entire world.
Her eyes. By Palleas, those eyes. They scared me at first, but they're just... so beautiful, hypnotizingly so. I feel like I could stare at them all day.
"Are you quite all right?" she asks. Wait, I have been staring, haven't I?
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's- you just- I- sorry, sorry!" I sputter gracelessly. She smiles, such a beautiful smile, and slowly brings her lips to my cheek. It's a delicate, gentle kiss; a comfort, a nudge to stop my panic. "I'll... if you're sure, yes, I'll go with you."
