When I was at school the other day waiting for class to start, I got an idea for a story and decided to run with it. I had just been lamenting the Twilight *ahem* sparkly *cough* vampires, and thinking about the more traditional view of nosferatu... aka, Dracula. Anyways, I was thinking about all the different versions of vampiric literature and mostly the vast range of vampires in folklore - they are almost as widespread across cultures as dragons are, believe it or not. From my spontaneous research, I have discovered that most cultures in most times have their own versions of a vampire, although the term "vampire" wasn't predominant until 18th century Europe. But even the ancient Egyptians and Mesopotamians had some version of a vampiric creature in their folklore.
Anyways, back to my original topic... I decided to write on myself... my own take on a vampire, not a romanticized hero, but neither is he a completely evil villian. Here is the first draft of the introduction... tell me what you guys think. :)
"Andrei"
I have roamed this earth for an eternity.
I've watched civilizations rise and fall.
Throughout the ages I have been both admired and hunted, revered and accursed. Endless stories have been written of me, some paint me as romantic, a tragic hero, but most name me monster. In truth, I am neither and both. I am Andrei Kardos. I am Vampire.
The endless years have stretched with a neverending loneliness and pain. I grow weary of this world, and yet there is no escape. Long have mortals been envious of the idea of immortality, yet they do so without thought of the maddening loneliness such a lifetime offers. I grow so weary of this life that I would welcome a slayer's arrival. How the true ancients of my kind cope with the loneliness, I know not. For it has been centuries since I've known even the company of my own kind.
It was not always this way, you know. At one time, the name of Andrei Kardos was held in high esteem. I was a master smith, forging blades for the most powerful men in all Wallachia, Transylvania, and Hungary. My work had transcended the merely functional and became truly an art. My blades were the most prized in all the land, and I grew in respect and power.
. . .
More to come at another time... as I write it or as I feel like posting it, lol.
Goodnight all, or should I say "Good evvenning..." ;)
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Shadows of Memories
I was randomly browsing through some of my old stories, and came across this Lord of the Rings fanfiction vignette I wrote a while back. It takes place in the Halls of Mandos, after the battle on Amon Hen.
“Shadows of Memories”
Time eludes me. Days pass like hours and hours seem years.Here in the Halls of Mandos I await you, my brother. Has it been a day or an age? I know not.
Shadows of memories haunt me. Often I wonder if I have merely dreamed my fate, but I know naught of such things. I am a warrior, son of Gondor. Faramir, my beloved younger brother, has ever been a dreamer possessed of great wisdom and insight. I wish that he had gone in my stead. If Faramir and not I, Boromir, son of Denethor, had gone to the council in Rivendell, fate may have been kinder.
For I, to my everlasting grief and shame, did not believe what the others had warned about the Ring. I was so arrogant in my belief that my father was right, that the One Ring would save our people.
When first my father ordered me to attend Lord Elrond’s council in Rivendell, Faramir had desired to go in my stead. Gondor had just retaken Osgiliath, and my brother knew me to be ill willed towards leaving my people during such troubled times. Our father however, never had much use for Faramir, and did not trust him with the task of going to Rivendell and bringing the One Ring back to Gondor.
Father had always said my brother was too immersed in the teachings of Mithrandir, and was therefore weak. Faramir is not weak; in truth, I believe now that he may have been the stronger of us… even if it be not in feats of arms. Unlike I, he would never have tried to take the Ring of Power.
But, as I wait here in these halls, I wonder… has Faramir earned our father’s respect and love? For he is far more worthy than I.
My mind wanders to other friends…
I pray that the halflings are safe. The Uruks took Merry and Pippin when I fell. The hobbits never left me, though I bade them to flee. Such bravery and valor those two small halflings possessed would put to shame many Men – even those among Gondor’s finest.
The only consolation offered my troubled mind is in the words Aragorn spoke to me on Amon Hen. My honor is restored, and the White City shall not fall, nor our people fail. It is now in the hands of Isildur’s Heir to save my people, as I can no longer assist them. It lies in the hands of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and the Ringbearer, Frodo Baggins to save Middle Earth from the shadow that is in the east.
I would sacrifice myself a hundred times over if it meant I could take back one deed. Despite Aragorn’s assurance that I am forgiven, it still haunts me, and ever will, for I cannot forgive myself. I tried to take the Ring from Frodo, something that Faramir never would have done.
Even more would I give to see you one last time, Faramir… my comrade in arms, my brother.
You always loved me no matter how arrogant I behaved or how our father favored me over you so. Little brother… how my heart aches that I can’t see you again. Have you managed to hold Osgiliath? Even more than any military feats, there is one thing you have long dreamt of but never found… love. Have you found a maiden, little brother? Our whole lives the ladies of the court had been trying to match the sons of the Steward with their daughters. Many of them were beautiful to look upon, and I admit readily and without shame that I never despised the matchmaking as much as you. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. But you, you always had in your heart tales of great loves of old… Have you found a Lúthien, brother? Nay, perhaps you have not, but if you have, I so wish I was able to attend your marriage… especially the party after. My heart longs for some news of you, Faramir.
More time passes. How long, I know not.
There was a large battle fought in Middle Earth recently, for I saw many men, some of whom I once knew, pass through these halls. Men of both Gondor and those of the Rohirrim. I wonder what epic fights I have been missing. The only think I am sure of now, is that Rohan has taken a mighty blow… I saw Théodred, son of Théoden King pass on to his fathers.
Another memory stirs within the depths of my mind. Once, when Faramir and I were young men, we accompanied our father to Edoras. We hunted with the prince and the king’s nephew Éomer. Éowyn, the king’s niece and sister to Éomer, caught my eye immediately. For despite her shyness, she moved with the natural grace and confidence of a born warrior. Now, she would be a find match for you, my brother. The Valar’s assistance would be needed to tame such a Shieldmaiden of Rohan. But, knowing you Faramir, that would be unnecessary… for I have often thought that the one thing you truly fear is a beautiful maiden who is unmarried, even if she has no matchmaking mother.
More time passes… men have come and gone.
Théoden King passed into the halls of his fathers. I saw a flickering shadow of you, Faramir, but you faded before I was able to go to you. Our father also passed through here… but he appeared to be taken by a fell madness and didn’t see me where I sit, here on a granite bench between two columns. Here I will wait. For how long, I know not, for what is time but an illusion? Here is where I shall await my brother, so that once again we can be together in happiness as we go to the halls of our fathers.
It is here, in this place, that I shall await you, my brother...
Disclaimer: The characters & places in this story are by no means my property, but the story itself is.
“Shadows of Memories”
Time eludes me. Days pass like hours and hours seem years.Here in the Halls of Mandos I await you, my brother. Has it been a day or an age? I know not.
Shadows of memories haunt me. Often I wonder if I have merely dreamed my fate, but I know naught of such things. I am a warrior, son of Gondor. Faramir, my beloved younger brother, has ever been a dreamer possessed of great wisdom and insight. I wish that he had gone in my stead. If Faramir and not I, Boromir, son of Denethor, had gone to the council in Rivendell, fate may have been kinder.
For I, to my everlasting grief and shame, did not believe what the others had warned about the Ring. I was so arrogant in my belief that my father was right, that the One Ring would save our people.
When first my father ordered me to attend Lord Elrond’s council in Rivendell, Faramir had desired to go in my stead. Gondor had just retaken Osgiliath, and my brother knew me to be ill willed towards leaving my people during such troubled times. Our father however, never had much use for Faramir, and did not trust him with the task of going to Rivendell and bringing the One Ring back to Gondor.
Father had always said my brother was too immersed in the teachings of Mithrandir, and was therefore weak. Faramir is not weak; in truth, I believe now that he may have been the stronger of us… even if it be not in feats of arms. Unlike I, he would never have tried to take the Ring of Power.
But, as I wait here in these halls, I wonder… has Faramir earned our father’s respect and love? For he is far more worthy than I.
My mind wanders to other friends…
I pray that the halflings are safe. The Uruks took Merry and Pippin when I fell. The hobbits never left me, though I bade them to flee. Such bravery and valor those two small halflings possessed would put to shame many Men – even those among Gondor’s finest.
The only consolation offered my troubled mind is in the words Aragorn spoke to me on Amon Hen. My honor is restored, and the White City shall not fall, nor our people fail. It is now in the hands of Isildur’s Heir to save my people, as I can no longer assist them. It lies in the hands of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and the Ringbearer, Frodo Baggins to save Middle Earth from the shadow that is in the east.
I would sacrifice myself a hundred times over if it meant I could take back one deed. Despite Aragorn’s assurance that I am forgiven, it still haunts me, and ever will, for I cannot forgive myself. I tried to take the Ring from Frodo, something that Faramir never would have done.
Even more would I give to see you one last time, Faramir… my comrade in arms, my brother.
You always loved me no matter how arrogant I behaved or how our father favored me over you so. Little brother… how my heart aches that I can’t see you again. Have you managed to hold Osgiliath? Even more than any military feats, there is one thing you have long dreamt of but never found… love. Have you found a maiden, little brother? Our whole lives the ladies of the court had been trying to match the sons of the Steward with their daughters. Many of them were beautiful to look upon, and I admit readily and without shame that I never despised the matchmaking as much as you. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. But you, you always had in your heart tales of great loves of old… Have you found a Lúthien, brother? Nay, perhaps you have not, but if you have, I so wish I was able to attend your marriage… especially the party after. My heart longs for some news of you, Faramir.
More time passes. How long, I know not.
There was a large battle fought in Middle Earth recently, for I saw many men, some of whom I once knew, pass through these halls. Men of both Gondor and those of the Rohirrim. I wonder what epic fights I have been missing. The only think I am sure of now, is that Rohan has taken a mighty blow… I saw Théodred, son of Théoden King pass on to his fathers.
Another memory stirs within the depths of my mind. Once, when Faramir and I were young men, we accompanied our father to Edoras. We hunted with the prince and the king’s nephew Éomer. Éowyn, the king’s niece and sister to Éomer, caught my eye immediately. For despite her shyness, she moved with the natural grace and confidence of a born warrior. Now, she would be a find match for you, my brother. The Valar’s assistance would be needed to tame such a Shieldmaiden of Rohan. But, knowing you Faramir, that would be unnecessary… for I have often thought that the one thing you truly fear is a beautiful maiden who is unmarried, even if she has no matchmaking mother.
More time passes… men have come and gone.
Théoden King passed into the halls of his fathers. I saw a flickering shadow of you, Faramir, but you faded before I was able to go to you. Our father also passed through here… but he appeared to be taken by a fell madness and didn’t see me where I sit, here on a granite bench between two columns. Here I will wait. For how long, I know not, for what is time but an illusion? Here is where I shall await my brother, so that once again we can be together in happiness as we go to the halls of our fathers.
It is here, in this place, that I shall await you, my brother...
Disclaimer: The characters & places in this story are by no means my property, but the story itself is.
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