Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Title: Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter Title & No.: #20. A history lesson.

Author: Darkling Willow

Pairing: Non.

Rating: NC - 17
Abuse, Anal, Angst, BDSM, Bi, B-Mod, Bond, Death, D/s, H/C, HJ, Humil, Language, M/F, M/M, Minor, N/C, OC, Oral, Preg, Rim, Spank, Violence, Voy, VS, WD, WIP.

Archive: Originals - misc. > Slash-male/male
Feedback: Yes thank you very much. An author can only improve with criticism. Please rate if you do not want to leave a review.

Disclaimer: This is an original work of fiction. Any resemblance of places and characters to actual persons, living or dead, and places is purely coincidental.
The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Authors Notes: For review replies, comments and thank you's go to: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/14530-polinues-marines-the-would-be-mage/

Summary: Amraeen tries one last time, but it seems some things are set in stone.

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Chapter 20. A history lesson.

Rolling off the teen, Amraeen snuggled into the fluffy pillows, pulling the covers up over them, enjoying the feeling of soft and clean linens around his body, and cradled Leyjen in his arms.
Leyjen’s face was flushed a delicate pink, his eyes glazed orbs of amber, the tip of his tongue pushing between bloodied elongated canines, his breath rasping in his chest.
Amraeen could see the effects of his blood coarsing through the lean body, and he smiled, running warm hands up and down Leyjen’s sides, over his narrow hips, between the thighs.
Leyjen bucked hard, trying to pull away from and push into the touch at the same time, as Amraeen ghosted his fingertips over his stretched hole, sinking in and swirling the dripping come between his cheeks.

“Nhno, please. No more. I can’t.” Leyjen moaned, his body wanting to respond, but it was too exhausted.

Amraeen’s smile was strangely predatory, he sank down over the teen and kissed him gently, whispering,
“So, four times in a row is your limit? That’s good to know.”

Leyjen blushed, gasping and mewling unintelligibly when two fingers sank into his abused ass, brushing over his prostate, before pulling out and Amraeen tucked the covers up to his chin, fluttering kisses over Leyjen’s face.

“I guess everyone has a limit.”

“Yeah. Everyone does. It’s just different from person to person.”

“I love you, Amraeen.”

“I know. Stop saying it. I mean, don’t say it so much. You’ll wear it out.”

“Mmm. Why didn’t you want to tell me what those vows meant? And why did you get so upset that I said them?”

“Ahw, Leyjen, don’t start again…”

“I’m not starting anything, I just want to know. Why would you say that to me, but then not want me to say it back?”

“Because of the implication of ilithilin, the soulmates.”

Leyjen twisted around into a better position to look at Amraeen, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss, before Leyjen said,
“I don’t really understand. What about soulmates? Don’t you believe we could be soulmates?”

Amraeen rolled away from the teen, and sat up, piling pillows against the headboard, getting comfortable.
Leyjen did not hesitate, crawling into his arms as soon as Amraeen was settled, looking up with adoring eyes, awaiting his answer.
Amraeen ghosted cooling fingertips over the young face, admiring every curve and dip and hard angle, worshipping the swollen lips, the perfect almond of the eyes, bending down he kissed each eyelid, the high forehead and the plump lips before he settled back and twined his fingers with Leyjen’s.

“Soulmates for the Vampyr, and the Aaenda is such a vastly different concept than it is to humans. A soulmate to a Vampyr isn’t just the perfect match, it’s like a part of your soul that you never knew was missing. Sometimes a Vampyr can feel a connection to his soulmate long before they ever meet. Some soulmates never meet, but they never find perfect happiness with anyone else either. They can be contented, but never perfectly happy. I’ve been told that the feeling is very much the same for the Aaenda. The Aaenda believe that sometimes one soul is divided between two bodies as punishment for a transgression in a previous life, or it can happen by accident. The Vampyr believe they are two souls that make up a whole. You know, like shadow and light, good and evil. But soulmates are never wholly good or wholly evil, they are always in perfect equality to each other.”

Amraeen stopped, his eyes distant, searching for something that he had lost so long ago.

“It is nothing like a Vianin and his Vampyr, or a Vampyr and his Vampire. A human can never truly understand it, and it is so elusive it’s hard to explain it properly. There is no way to explain it. Do you know what The Blooddrop is?”

Amraeen’s eyes sparkled, and Leyjen nodded hesitantly, answering slowly,
“I know that the Vampyr make their Vampires by giving them The Blooddrop. Not much more than that.”

“It is so much more than that. First the rule is to never take a life. Always offer the turning, never force it. First you drain the body, leave nothing but the final breath. Then a single drop of blood falls from the Vampyr’s heart, and from his lips into the mouth of the victim. For the Vampyr we change instantly. The Vampire’s need a day and a night, and they must feed on their first night, or the transformation is ruined and they die. Giving The Blooddrop to someone is truly giving them a part of your soul. But when the receiver is your soulmate, it is more like you’re giving them back a part of their own soul, or the part of your soul that always belonged to them. The Blooddrop is solid, like a sparkling red jewel, when it enters the victim, and someone once told me that each Blooddrop is meant only for its intended victim. As in, if you produce it for one person, but don’t deliver it, you can’t use it to turn someone else. But I know that you can produce the Drop for someone other than the receiver.”

“How so? If you can’t give it to anyone other than the intended victim, how can you then give it to someone other than it is intended for? You’ve stopped making sense.”

“No. What I mean is… Alright. Lets say I fall in love with an insufferably strong headed teenage boy, who never stops until he gets what he wants, no matter what, and we have a great relationship. But then the boy decides to grow up and leave me, because I can’t turn him in to a vampire, and he can’t turn me into a Vampyr. After he leaves I am so heartbroken that all I can think about is him, and everytime I produce a Blooddrop, it’s meant for him, but I use it to turn someone else.”

Sparkling tears welled up in the amber eyes, and Leyjen’s jaw went taut,
“I would never do that!”

He shuddered, Amraeen pulling him closer, kissing his forehead,
“I know, loved, I know. But do you understand what I mean? A Vampyr, and Aaenda can produce a Blooddrop for someone they truly love, but are unable to turn, and use it to turn someone else. But if they do, the relationship, the connection to their victim is never as strong.”

“How so? Isn’t your Vianin your Vianin, no matter what?”

“Yeah, he is, or she for that matter, but it doesn’t mean that you love your Vianin without question. When your father turned me… Your father only ever loved one person. Your mother. And when he turned me, he used a Blooddrop that was produced by his love for her. He can’t turn her, but he can produce a Drop meant for her. Are you understanding me at all?”

“Would you do that?”

“What? Do what? Did you understand me?”

“Would you leave me, because we can’t turn each other?”

Amraeen stared down at his lover, a warmth in his chest that should not be there. His body was rapidly cooling down, the blood in his system losing its magic, but this glow in his chest wouldn’t stop. The last time he had felt anything similar to it had been the night he had met the boy’s father.
Trailing his fingertips over Leyjen’s brow, Amraeen sighed and gave in completely,

“I was born in Senizja, in Ackhateel. My mother was a ship owner, with a fleet of merchant and cargo ships, while my father was a pelt and skin merchant. I was the second oldest of three brothers, and two sisters between us. I grew up on the docks, in my mother’s offices, or in my father’s warehouse. I spoke four languages, I was a brilliant horseman, and pretty decent with a sword, and had hopes of taking over the business from my mother when the time came.
From the first day I remember I always had this feeling of not really belonging. I found beauty in things that other people took for granted, or thought were odd and out of place. I sought the company of the literary minded, the artists and the actors, when my expected peers were other merchant’s sons and daughters. And no matter what I did, or where I went I was always looking for something which I had no idea what was.
Once… I couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven summers… I was on the docks with my father, he was bartering with some traders about skins from the islands south of Far’yond, and I smelled this scent.
I had smelled it so often before, both in waking and in my dreams, but never so strong, and I had no idea what it was. It overpowered everything in my senses, it was all I could smell. I couldn’t place it, it was so foreign and alien that I asked my father about it. He and the traders all had to stop and sniff the air like hounds before they found the smell. The traders opened a small box they had on their boat, in the captain’s cabin, and there it was, that scent. My father thought it was horrendous, the traders didn’t like it much either, but they used the flowers for pain relief. For me it was the most heavenly scent I had ever found. My father walked away from that trader’s ship with a large stack of quality skins, and I walked away with that little box. After that those traders always brought me a small wooden box filled with those flowers, and whenever I smelled them I felt as if I was being completed in ways that I could never understand, like I was one step closer to whatever this something that I was so desperately seeking.
When I was forced to leave Ackhateel I found a ship from those islands and convinced the captain to take me on board, because I thought that I would find what I was searching for there. I didn’t, so after two years of wandering around those islands in vain, I got a berth on a ship heading to the north of Far’yond. Unfortunately we never made it. A storm blew us off course, and the ship was damaged. We took refuge in the Etherial, and I found some solace there, in the Vampire quarter, and when the ship left again I stayed. And there, eventually, I found what I thought was the end of my search. So no. I would never leave you just because I can’t turn you. I wouldn’t want to turn you. You are perfect just this way.”

Amraeen kissed Leyjen gently, breathing deeply, poppies and opium flooding his senses, Leyjen answered for a few moments, then asked,
“What were they? Those flowers? That scent?”

“Opium. Poppies and opium. When I first met your father, I thought I had found my soulmate, because his scent was of poppies. But I realized that I was wrong after he turned me. Then eight years ago I lived in Marinesse, on orders from your father to watch over you and your mother. I avoided meeting her, for the same reason she avoided me. Then one night I woke up, and there was this… I don’t know what to call it… like a release of tension in my chest, like a tightly wound spring had finally been released, and I tasted blood on my tongue, new blood, like it was the very first time I tasted blood. I knew then that I was feeling my soulmate. When I first saw you, you were an eight year old boy, asleep in your bed, having tasted human blood for the first time. Then when I first met you, that night when your father came to claim your mother, I found that scent again. Perfectly balanced, perfect in every way, and I knew that I had found that something that I had been looking for all my life, for both of my lives. My soulmate.”

Leyjen sat up quickly, his eyes flaming, his heart hammering wildly,
“You think that I am your soulmate?! Then why have you resisted me so much? Why did you push me away until I practically threw myself at you? And how can you be sure just because of some smell? A lot of people like the smell of poppies! It’s not like that was the first time you ever smelled poppies.”

“Poppies don’t grow in Senizja. I had never smelled poppies in my life, before my father bought me that box. But when I first saw them and smelled them, I knew that scent. It was like a part of my soul. And it isn’t just your scent. Your scent is so uniquely yours, that it’s like an identity marker, it’s that way for almost everyone. And your soulmate’s scent is something that pleases you all of your life. Like I told you before, we believe that you can feel your soulmate long before you ever meet him. When your father ordered me to watch over you at the Temples, I fought my feelings for you so hard, but it was a losing battle from the start. And when I realized you are a brisner everything just came together, my world was finally completed. But no. I don’t think you are my soulmate, I’m telling you, you are my soulmate.”

“And you are mine.”
Leyjen crushed his lips against Amraeen’s, tongue demanding entry, and the Vampyr slid down a little, battling the teen for dominance.

Leyjen was the first to pull away, gasping, the glint in Amraeen’s eyes stopping him from another attack.
“What?”

“I don’t know if I am your soulmate. Maybe I’m not.”

“What do you mean?! Of course you are! If I’m yours then you have to be mine!”

“It isn’t that simple, Leyjen. It sometimes happens that you are not the soulmate of the other person. First of all, have you all your life had this sense of something missing? Have you always loved the scent of the ocean? Did you sometimes wake up at night, or stop in the middle of whatever you were doing because you could have sworn you smelled the sea and kelp and wet sand? Is that empty space in your heart gone, now that you are with me?”

Leyjen stared back with a pale face, his flaming irises diminishing to their human form, the canines withdrawing into the gums, until they were just oddly sharp human teeth, and Amraeen could hear the erratic beating of his heart, the sound of frightened uncertainty.

“Yes.” His voice shook almost imperceptably, despair shaking him down to his foundations as he continued,

“Yes, I have always felt that way, until I met you. I’ve always wanted to see the oceans because I knew how they smelled. I love you, Amraeen! I want to be with you, and
noone else! I am your soulmate!”
Amraeen pulled him close to his chest, soothing the auburn hair, whispering into the ear, calming the teen down.

When he could feel the muscles relax, the body stopped shivering, he made Leyjen look him in the eyes, and said, pouring into it every ounce of love and adoration and confidence he had,
“We are soulmates, Leyjen. I believe you. It’s alright, I believe you.”

He pulled Leyjen in for a kiss, tugging at the steel ring in his bottom lip, Leyjen bucking his hips against Amraeen’s abdomen.
Amraeen grabbed the teen’s chest tightly, pressing his thumbs into his nipples, toying with the rings pierced into the areolae, Leyjen bucking again.
Chuckling into Leyjen’s mouth, Amraeen broke the kiss and looked down between their bodies, Leyjen’s cock half erect, a tiny pearl of precome on the tip.
Leyjen attacked his lips again, as he straddled Amraeen and ground his groin down on the Vampyr’s cock, writhing in his lap until he got a response.

Amraeen played his fingers and mouth over all of his favorite spots, making Leyjen moan and twitch in the most delectable ways, the teen constantly pressing his groin down on Amraeen’s cock, which was filling fast.
Without warning Amraeen grabbed Leyjen’s waist and lifted him up, positioning the head of his cock at the twitching hole, and as the head breached the round muscle he slammed in to the roots, pulling out fast and slamming in again hard and heavy.

Leyjen screamed in pain, tears flooding his eyes, and his breath left him.
Amraeen froze, buried to the hilt inside Leyjen’s body, fear suddenly tearing at his chest.
Slowly, gentle he eased Leyjen down on top of him, Leyjen whimpering as he relaxed his muscles, and rested his head on Amraeen’s shoulder.

“What happened?”

“I think you broke me.” Leyjen sobbed, wiping his tears away hurriedly, Amraeen chuckled into the auburn hair,

“That’s impossible. There’s nothing down there to break. But I obviously hurt you. What is it?”

“I’m sore. Like really sore. I don’t think doing it hard like that is going to work right now.”

“That’s alright, loved. Slow and tender it is. I’ll let you lead now. You move when you feel ready to.”

“I don’t think I’m wet enough, Amraeen. It feels really sore.”

Amraeen rolled his eyes, reaching for the vial of oil he always carried, and they had used earlier in the night for Amraeen. Leyjen shivered as he lifted himself up a little, to let Amraeen coat his hole in oil as well as the shaft buried inside him. With a grimace Leyjen sank back down so he was sitting on Amraeen’s lap, and laid his head back on Amraeen’s shoulder.

They sat like that for some time, Leyjen gyrating his hips just enough to keep Amraeen aroused, without offering any release.

Leyjen startled the Vampyr when he suddenly asked,
“Tell me about the Vampyr. Why are there so many of them if there are so few of us Aaenda? And why are the clans? What are they?”

Amraeen stared down at Leyjen incredulously, but Leyjen didn’t look up, his head nestled on the discoloured shoulder, soft fingers tangling in a lock of Amraeen’s hair.

“Do you know the story of their origins? How the first Vampyr were made by the first Aaenda?
After the One Mother had created the world, and she and the All Father gave life to the Elflin, they gave birth to children. The first three gods. They found themselves mates, and produced seven children. Those seven were the first Lords of the Aaenda. The Elflin were meant to be their playmates and servants, but there were so many new things to explore, and as the new races emerged, the more curious the Lords of the Aaenda became.
One night, behind his parents back the Lord of Fire created the very first Vampyr, the Priest. The rest of them followed soon after, the Duke, the Marquis, the Earl, the Viscount and the Baron. Each of them produced a line of inheritance, the throne goes to the oldest child, without exception.
The youngest of the Aaenda Lords didn’t make a Vampyr. She was a shy girl, rather young according to the legends, and in love with a man that belonged to someone else. Despite that she and the man spent a night together that produced a child. That lineage was hidden for centuries. When it came out, it was discovered that the youngest Lord, the Lady of Water, had given birth to a son by the man she loved, not knowing that the man had been turned before she became pregnant. That was the Bastard. The Bastard’s clan is the only clan that does not have an inheritary succession to the throne, like all the other clans. Why do you want to know this?”

Amraeen was breathing heavily, his hands itching to grab hold of Leyjen’s hips, longing to thrust hard into the writhing body.

“I’m just curious, but I knew most of that before. But how can there be so many of the Vampyr? From what little I know there are hundreds of thousands. They can’t all have been made by the Lords of the Aaenda.”
“No, they weren’t. There have been many generations of the TriGods and their seven Lords of the Aaenda, so many were created by them. The Aaenda themselves can create Vampyr, but very few chose to do so. There is a large family tree in the Baron’s Clan descendant from one of the Aaenda, and a smaller one that spreads between the Marquis’ Clan and the Visount’s Clan, although they frown upon mixing between the Clans. Most of the Aaenda found the Vampyr to be too powerful and too close to the gods, and therefore do not create them. It has been a long time since a new Vampyr was created by anyone. Before me, that is.”

“But how? Get to the point.”

“We breed. We can breed like humans. The Vampires are not our children, they are just companions, consorts or playthings, or worse, servants. The Vampyr bear children like humans.”

“But how does that work? I mean, you’re essentially dead! You don’t need to breathe, you don’t have a heartbeat, unless you chose to, and if you don’t feed for too long, you perish. So how can there be living offspring?”

“They’re horrible, vile things. The mother must feed twice as much through the entire pregnancy, and when the child is born, the parents give it instantly to a wet nurse. The child is like a leech, it latches on to the wet nurse and sucks her dry within a week. The first year the child is fed in this manner, I have seen families go through whole generations of nurses. These women are slaves, cattle, bred within the city for this single purpose. Once the child reaches its first year, the feeding can be regulated better, the child learns discipline and by the time the child turns five one feeding a day is sufficient. When the child reaches it’s thirteenth year the parents initiate the child into the Clan, and if it proves worthy it is granted its title.”

“Why does it matter if it’s been a long time since the last Vampyr was made, before you? I mean, if they can breed, why does it matter if someone creates a Vampyr?”

“Because the Clans grew quickly, and very soon they discovered their gift of creating Vampires. The Lords of the Aaenda were dissatisfied by that, and wanted it stopped, but the TriGods didn’t want to interfere. They all sat down to a council and it was decided that the Aaenda and their Lords did not create more Vampyr, while in return the Vampyr would keep a tight noose on their population. They agreed to keeping their Vampires in even closer check, if they were given the gift to bear children. The One Mother gave them that, and there have hardly been any new Vampyr since. Only a handful of Aaenda have gone against the law, but the Lords have never done so. When your father turned me, there had not been a new Vampyr in over twenty thousand years as the humans count them.”

“I still don’t get why that is such a big deal.”

Leyjen smiled languidly, clenching around Amraeen, making the Vampyr hiss with longing.

“The Clans hold exceptional records of their members, and every child is meticulously noted and catalogued. The Vampyr have become a little obsessive in their interpretations of the Law, and now it is punishable by death to be a Vampyr without a Clan. I was made by your father. I have no Clan, and if the Clan Lords ever find out, I’ll be executed without a trial or judgement. Your father wanted me to spy on the Vampyr, some hundred and fifty years back, so he counterfeited documents for me, claiming me to be the son of two Vampyr he had known a few hundred years earlier. They were from the Baron’s Clan, and I eventually got granted my titles. My station within the Priest’s Court is still fragile, but I have the LordBaron in my pocket.”

Leyjen smiled, seeming satisfied with his lengthy interrogation, Amraeen slammed the back of his head against the headboard, when Leyjen moved his hips languidly, letting Amraeen slip out, then slide back in to the roots.
The teen leaned back, bracing himself on his arms, fingers digging into Amraeen’s thighs, gyrating his hips in slow almost lethargic circles, between lifting his ass an inch or two, and sinking back down. Amraeen bit his lip hard enough to bleed, toying with the dark nipples and the piercings above them, fluttering down the flexing abdomen, until he wrapped his hand around Leyjen’s cock, and stroked him in time with the teen’s movements.

“You are so beautiful. So perfect.” Amareen whispered, watching Leyjen under heavy lids, the wicked smile making his cock twitch.
Leyjen maintained the slow pace for long minutes, coaxing low growling moans from Amraeen, who struggled with the urge to thrust into the tight heat of the body above him.

“You’re so cold.” Leyjen gasped, his rhythm faltering, a blush spreading out from his chest, his eyes glowing.

Amraeen squeezed the head of his cock, stroking a little harder, enjoying the sight of Leyjen coming undone in his hands.
Hot spurts shot over Amraeen’s abdomen, Leyjen’s ass tightening around him, and the Vampyr spilled himself inside the teen with a silent scream, as Leyjen’s canines sank into his skin, and Leyjen swallowed a mouthful of blood.
Amraeen pulled the teen close to his chest, biting him on the shoulder, drinking hungrily, Leyjen squirming on his lap, gasping when Amraeen’s flacid cock slipped out.

“I’m cold because it’s nearing morning, and I fed just after sundown. I think I should get going. I can come back tomorrow night, if you’d like.”

“I can’t tomorrow night. There is this family dinner, and I always end up taking care of Polinues through the night after those. The night after that? Please? I think I need to feed too. So, we could hunt together, then go to bed here.”

Amraeen smiled, nodding his consent, trailing kisses over his shoulder and neck.
Leyjen twirled his fingers around a lock of sweat soaked hair, just behind Amraeen’s ear, his voice husky and sort of timid,

“You never answered my question though.”

“Huh? What question?”

“Would you ever leave me because we can’t turn each other?”

“Yes I did. When I told you about my childhood, that I have always loved the smell of opium, I told you, I would never want to turn you because you are perfect just like this.”

“Something tells me you were trying to convince yourself, as much as you were trying to convince me.”

“I wasn’t!”

Leyjen sat up, wincing at the pain in his backside, but his eyes were angered,
“You see! There it is again, that twinge of doubt in your voice! I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I’ve noticed that whenever you lie to me, your inflection goes strange. It becomes more Senizjan, if you know what I mean.”

“Leyjen! For the sake of all that is holy, please believe me! I love you, I do believe that we are soulmates. I would never willingly leave you. I think the only thing that could make me leave you, would be if it were to save your life, or protect it. And I’m not lying to you.”

“It still feels like you’re not telling me the whole truth. Do you regret not being able to turn me, is that it?”

Amraeen went quiet, his jaw going taut, and he pushed Leyjen off him, climbing out of the bed and pulling his trousers on, Leyjen crawling after him, struggling to stop the Vampyr,

“Stop! Don’t do this! Talk to me! What is it?”

Leyjen grabbed hold of Amraeen’s arm, pulling hard, Amraeen resisting him for a few moments, but when Leyjen refused to let go, Amraeen turned around and grabbed him by the shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood.

His eyes darkened with despair, his voice low and dangerous,
“I do wish I could, alright! I do wish I could share the intimacy of that bond with you, instead of being bound to your father in that way! I do wish that I could give you a part of my soul. And it scares me! I am afraid, because eternity is an extremely long time, and I do not know if I’ll be able to last that long. I am afraid of what your father will think of all this! I am afraid of what will happen when you return to your father’s court, and I will be forced to face him. He has been acting strangely the last few times that I have seen him, and it worries me.”

“You will not have to face him alone! And I may not remember eternity at the moment, but in the end we will live it together. I know that you will last forever. I will deal with my father! He may be my father, but at the end of it all he does not control how I choose to live my life.”

“That’s just it, Leyjen! He is your father! HIM! The Shadow Dragon himself! You are a god yourself! I’m only a Vampyr. To the humans and maybe to the elves, I may appear immortal, but I’m not! To you, I’m nothing more than a fleeting moment in time.”

“How can you say that?! I’m not a god! I’m only the son of one, a demigod, a god child. I don’t even possess my full powers, probably never will if the Keys are never found. And you are not just a fleeting moment in time! The humans are, but you… You’ve been alive now for two hundred and seventy eight winters. You are immortal.”

“No! I’m not! I can still be killed! Sunlight will kill me, beheading me, falling on my sword. All of those things can kill me. You on the other hand! And that is another thing. How old are you, Leyjen?”

“Sixteen since Beltane, you know that!”

Leyjen twisted out of his grasp and screamed, tears flowing down his cheeks, and tried to walk away from him, but Amraeen grabbed him by the arms and shook him hard,
“No! Maybe like this! Maybe in this lifetime, maybe in this body, but what about when you die? If you died right now, you’d wake up in your true form in your sarcophagus, in your father’s court. How old are you there? In human years, how old are you? How many lifetimes have you walked on this earth?”

Leyjen cried out, pushing and beating at the Vampyr’s chest, Amraeen holding him fast by the arm, and they struggled against each other for a few strained moments, before Leyjen looked up into Amraeen’s eyes, and cried,
“Nine thousand winters! Alright! You happy? I have seen ninety ages of men. But it doesn’t change anything. You are still immortal.”

“NO! I can die! You can’t.”

“DON’T! Please, don’t! I can’t take this. I wish I could change that! I would give up my life for you, if I could, I would lay it down and walk away from my immortality! If you die then so will I!”
Leyjen pushed Amraeen hard, the Vampyr lost his grip on Leyjen’s arm and Leyjen fell to the floor, crumbling down in a heap, turning his face away from Amraeen, he wailed in pain, as he continued to cry,
“I have lived for nine thousand years, but I remember none of them! I don’t remember my immortal life! And I am only twenty five, in my true form, that I know. I would still give it all up for you.”

Amraeen stood frozen, staring down at him while Leyjen talked, but the desperate wails of the teen tore open his heart, and he knew that he would willingly do the same for Leyjen, without hesitation.

Falling to his knees, Amraeen gathered Leyjen gently into his arms, and soothing him, Amraeen whispered into the auburn hair, the amber eyes, the pink lips,
“I know. Let us never speak of it again. I love you now. In life and in death I love you. Let’s promise each other this, from now on. We will never speak of any of this ever again. I will stay with you for eternity, and you will stay with me, and nothing will ever tear us apart. Alright? How does that sound.”
Leyjen sobbed into the smooth chest, long fingers clawing at Amraeen’s back, arms gripping on for dear life.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes. I promise. I will not doubt you, I will not forsake you, and I will never stop loving you.” Leyjen gasped, his voice broken from despair.
Amraeen smiled, picking him up of the floor, he carried Leyjen back to the bed, and lay down, cradling the teen to his chest.
They fell asleep in each others arms.

Leyjen woke with a start, Amraeen’s spasming body throwing him against the wall above his bed.
Sunlight streamed into the room through the windows, burning bright spots at the top of the walls, the suns slowly rising above the mountains.
Amraeen would not wake, and his body jerked violently, like a demented parody of a marionette, his skin already blistering in places.
Leyjen fought the dying body, wrapping it up in a blanket and dragging it to the secret passage, where he positioned it on the landing, hoping with all his heart that it was enough, as he closed the secret door in the wall behind him, Amraeen twitching in his blanket cocoon.