Perspective
folder
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
21
Views:
1,851
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
21
Views:
1,851
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 18
We finished getting dressed. Myself in the spun gold confection, and Ladislao in signature black, leading the way to the library.
As we walked in, I marveled at the sheer volume of books and scrolls this room contained. I walked along one of the shelves and pulled a book of poetry out. I opened the book, randomly chose a page and began to read aloud,
“Against a fall of snow, a being beautiful, and tall
Whistlings of death and circles of faint music
Make this adored body, swelling and trembling
Like a specter, rise…..
Black and scarlet gashes burst in the gleaming flesh.
The true colors of life grow dark,
Shimmer and separate
In the scaffolding around the vision.
Shiverings mutter and rise,
And the furious taste of these effects in charged
With deadly whistlings and raucous music
That the world, far between us, hurls up at our mother of beauty….
She retreats us, rises up
O ash white face
O tousled hair
O crystal arms!
On this cannon I mean to destroy myself
In a swirling of trees and soft air!”
Applause came from behind me, I turned around thinking that I would see Ladislao. Instead, I saw two women of whose stunning beauty would cause even the Sun to dim.
The first I would come to know as Rossanna, a beauty descendant of the ancient Roman empire herself. Indeed, her dress and manner where as though she had stepped out of that time and into this one. I could have lost myself in her hair. It was the color of Mabon leaves. Her eyes were a clear Arctic blue and her skin flawless cream.
The second I would come to know as Rhiannon, truly the Celtic goddess’s namesake. Her essence was that of the Moors; windswept and mysterious. She had eyes the color of the storm-tossed North Sea and hair the color of amber that fell in gentle waves to her waist.
Her dress and stance were that of a warrior queen.
As we walked in, I marveled at the sheer volume of books and scrolls this room contained. I walked along one of the shelves and pulled a book of poetry out. I opened the book, randomly chose a page and began to read aloud,
“Against a fall of snow, a being beautiful, and tall
Whistlings of death and circles of faint music
Make this adored body, swelling and trembling
Like a specter, rise…..
Black and scarlet gashes burst in the gleaming flesh.
The true colors of life grow dark,
Shimmer and separate
In the scaffolding around the vision.
Shiverings mutter and rise,
And the furious taste of these effects in charged
With deadly whistlings and raucous music
That the world, far between us, hurls up at our mother of beauty….
She retreats us, rises up
O ash white face
O tousled hair
O crystal arms!
On this cannon I mean to destroy myself
In a swirling of trees and soft air!”
Applause came from behind me, I turned around thinking that I would see Ladislao. Instead, I saw two women of whose stunning beauty would cause even the Sun to dim.
The first I would come to know as Rossanna, a beauty descendant of the ancient Roman empire herself. Indeed, her dress and manner where as though she had stepped out of that time and into this one. I could have lost myself in her hair. It was the color of Mabon leaves. Her eyes were a clear Arctic blue and her skin flawless cream.
The second I would come to know as Rhiannon, truly the Celtic goddess’s namesake. Her essence was that of the Moors; windswept and mysterious. She had eyes the color of the storm-tossed North Sea and hair the color of amber that fell in gentle waves to her waist.
Her dress and stance were that of a warrior queen.