Crimson Regrets

The moon had just risen, but that was hard to see, even for a elf, for it his behind heavy black clouds. The tall elf stood in the window frame, his Black hair spilled down over his shoulders, all of his long life, he had insisted on wearing the hair fashion of the firstborn, the purebloods . even if he no longer was to be counted amongst them. His grey eyes was fixed at the moon. He could see it on his breath that it was cold, it formed little white clouds in the air, but he did not feel cold, even with his bare feet on the wooden floor. He sighed, and involuntarily let his tongue run over his fangs, it would not be long until his body would crave more blood, the blood of another living creature. He closed his eyes - never again.

He opened his eyes and looked out at the moon again, it was beautiful as it hung there in the air, playing tag with the clouds - alluring and mystic. But he had grown tired of this, his only sun. He missed the garden he had played in as a child, the green gardens with trees full of sweet fruit and perfect hiding places. A strange giggle escaped him, as he thought of the times he had ambushed his sister from these trees.

Niire, she had turned out to a stunning female, but then again, she had been a stunning child. She had been beautiful and smart. Oh by the highones how he had loved her - he had loved her more than dear life, but she had left him. To be reunited with their kin. And he could not follow - he was tai.
.

The Asian woman had turned him. He knew she thought that she had done him a favour, but in reality she had just drove him insane -Ol knew this to be true. For the last 100 years he had been looking through every single book he knew, in old libraries, so old that even Cesar had red these books. But he found no comfort, no indication that his condition could be cured. He had forsaken hope at some point. He had never wanted this, never asked to be amongst their kin.

He hotly wiped the tears from his face. /when did I begin to cry?/ he missed Niire, and would have given anything to reunite with her, but he was cursed, both with the blood of the vampire, and with having to endure it for eternity, an eternity alone. He could not face millennia to come without his anchor. Without the centre of his word. His heart twitched as he remembered Amdir, he had been beautiful , and even though he should have known better than to befriend a darkelf, he had done so. He had been nothing but a big child when he had met his future lover. He had been alone and scared, not sure hoe to take care of himself. And there as send from the heavens, there was Amdir. And he had shown him -taught him -loved him.

The first kiss they had shared had been sweet and innocent. Experimenting and yet aquard. He had only been 115 years old, not ready for the ways of the adult definition of love, he had not even had a wet dream yet. Ol frowned, had he really been that young? And yet he remembered the night, when Amdir had returned home to the empty hotel room. He had spooned up behind him, gently wrapping an arm around him, and Ol had found himself leaning in to the strange touch. He had not had any idea what this was about - but he had needed to feel loved. He had needed to belong. When Amdir had let his pale fingers entwine in his, Ol had frozen. And an image of something forbidden had come to mind. This was not right, was it? Amdir was his brother, father and friend.. all of that and yet he not not wish to disappoint him. What if he shunned him? What if he did not live up to what he wanted? /then he would have beat the crap out of you, you know that/ when Amdir slowly had turned him around he had heard his soft voice asking him to open his eyes, which he had not even been aware had been closed. He had complied and watched the handsome darkelf in the dim lights. He wondered if Amdir had been able so sense his fear, to taste it, to smell it. But the elder elf had just caressed his cheek and whispered comforting words, and spoken of love.. /don\'t be afraid/ and in that second love and fear had mingled together in Ol\'s confused mind. And no longer would one go without the other. He remembered that he had held his breath, and whimpered as he had felt Amdir\'s lips crush his. But he dared not to voice an objection.

It seemed like it had taken forever, the intrusion of his body, and the destruction of his soul. This was something that he was sure that Amdir had taken great pleasure in. When he stood there in the window and watched this cold night, he remembered it as, had it lasted for hours and hours. He had not been able to hold back his tears, or his pained sobs. It had felt like Amdir had split him in two. He had heard himself beg silently. He had been so, so frightened, ashamed and lost. What he remembered the best was Amdir whispering; \"don\'t be afraid\" these words had echoed in his mind ever since, as a haunting ghostly whisper. Ol rested his head against the glass in the window, and watched his tears fall on the window frame. \"I am not afraid anymore\" he whispered to himself.

The older he got, the more he realized that it had in fact been Amdir that had been the scared one. He had been afraid his entire life. And he had been afraid in death too. He had cried and clung on to Ol, the roles had been reverse.. but Ol had just kissed Amdir\'s face and softly hummed a tune to him in the ancient language, that he knew his lover had liked so much. His own tears had mingled with the darkelfs on the paheekheeks. And then Amdir had drawn his last breath, it had been a reluctant ragged one. Ol knew that he had not wanted to leave, but the script had been written, and this had been the grand finale, the end of Amdir\'s life and of Ol\'s sanity.

Now over 80 years later, the memory was as vivid as the day it happened. Ol slowly stood up straight, looking at the rubber band he had been playing with. Running it in and out his fingers without thinking. /the only blood spilled tonight, will be mine/ he thought grimly. He placed the rubber band in the window frame, and took off his hooded sweater in one fluid move. Not even bare-chested could he feel the cold. He let his hands run over his chest, his skin was still soft as the day he was born. /I miss your touch melamin - I have been so alone, so alone/ He had grown to love Amdir, he had loved him with his entire soul, and he had brought him pleasures he dared not even think about. He had been a strickt lover and master, had not allowed any disobedience, and every indiscretion had been punished. Ol smiled and remembered his lover in his element, naked and sweaty, towering up over him, as he was forced to kneel. This was the Amdir that no one else had been allowed to see, to touch and taste. But him - oh yes, he had loved him, and Ol had loved him back with tenfold the intensity. Ol knew that just as fierce the darkelf could be, just as tender and sweet he were afterwards, that was when they cuddled up, and Amdir would sing to him, old tales of his people, and whisper those sweet words of never ending love.. Ol had lived and breathed for those short moments. That was when he felt alive, that was when he felt complete.

He shook his head, as if to shake the thoughts of him. And began to unbraid his hair. To then rebraid it as a warrior of his status would do. It had been long since he had been taught this skill, and he was surprised to find that it never left his fingers. He send a wordless thanking to his ada, which had been so insisting learning him this, even though he had not been nearly old enough to wear them himself. He rememb the the huge elf, his azure blue eyes, and his soft voice. Little had his father known that when he had been old enough to wear those braids his life would be different. He would warm the bed of a fallen darkelf. Amdir would have become his father, friend and lover - he had become his life. He had leaned on Amdir, he had lived of his lovers approval, and he himself -Ol the dreamer of daylight, had disappeared in the haunting darkness of Amdir Shadowblade.

He turned to the table, his gun lay there, he looked at it for minutes, and then finally picked it up. He had carried a gun - this gun, for hundreds of years. But this time it felt different to pick up, it felt heavy and cold - alien. /I am not afraid/ He then turned around with a ballet dancers grace, and seated himself on the floor. He closed his eyes tly tly and remembered his sister. \"forgive me Niire, indamin\" he whispered, as he weighed the gun in his hand. Be briefly wondered if it would take off his entire face or just make a little hole. Idiot! He chided himself. It is the exit wound that would make the mess.

He let his right hand slowly touch the back of his head, in morbid fascination, and he thought that it would destroy the perfect braids he just made. But who was he kidding, this was not the death of a warrior, this was the death of a lonely and tormented soul, immortal with nowhere to turn. /I owishwish for oblivion - and I am not afraid/ he had been told that Akemi, had returned to this city. He had wished that he had had time to see her. But was not even sure if she would bother with speaking to him. She had been his friend, oh yes. For over 100 years they had been friends. But then something had changed, he knew it was something between Akemi and Amdir.. but what it was he would never know. And she had left them in the middle of the night. He had cried over her, and Amdir had comforted him, but his lovas nas not willing to tell him anything, and enlighten him, in why the Asian woman had left.

Now he found himself here, sitting on the floor of a old apartment in an abandoned house, in a city where he knew none. For he had none left -the friends he once had had was gone, either taken by the slow decay of mortals, to a brutal and bloody death, or simply disappeared. /I will breathe no more - and I am not afraid/

He looked down at the gun again, opening the wheel to make sure there were bullets in. Which he knew was stupid, he had looked many times. He turned the barrel against him, and he made himself all cross-eyed trying to look into the barrel.. /never thought it would come to this/ he lowered gun gun again, and sighed - was he even able to finish this. But then he heard the faint whisper in the back of his head again /don\'t be afraid/ and then he turned the gun around again, and with shaking hands lifted it up to his mouth, when his lips touched the cold steel, he closed his eyes. Remembering Niire\'s face as she left him, had she felt it? -foreseen it?. But the look she had given him, he knew now she had known. She had left for her own kin, not to fade away here amongst the mortals, her soul had taken great damage of the evil here, and she could reside no longer. She had even left her own child behind, trusting her to the mortal shapeshifter. Ol had been standing there saying his goodbyes to her together and and and the child. He knew him from years ago, but this moment had seemed so intimate that he had felt like an intruder. But non of the others had apparently thought so. And the face of the shapeshifter /what was his name? - Corla weren\'t it?/ had been the face of despair, and he was sure, that had he not had the child, this man had not survived the night. /like me - and I am not afraid anymore/ he sighed and opened his eyes, before he slowly opened his mouth and let the metal barrel slide inside, it clacked against his teeth, because his hands were trembling so. An insane giggle rose from his throat, this was almost obscene. If he missed his target because he shook on his hands, or that he was thinking of large cocks. He would never forgive himself. The giggles went over into strangled sobs, and he felt drool run over his chin.

/I am not afraid - I am not afraid - I am not afraid/

He closed his eyes again and forced himself to gently squeeze the trigger, he heard Amdir\'s voice chide him \"squeeze, not jerk\" He had waited to hear something, a sound to indicate the shot, like when you aimed at someone else. It never came. There was a sickening thud as if you fired into water. And Ol\'s dream of sght ght was no more.

He slumped together and fell sideways to the floor laying there with a surprised expression and the blood he had borrowed from others through so many years coloured the floor around him, sticking to his neatly done braids, seeping into the cracks of the old wood. The moon seemed to laugh mockingly at him, as the clouds that had dimmed it, suddenly disappeared, and it shun extra bright towards the night sky

This was his time, this was his oblivion, his deliverance.

-The end-

Elvish translations; Ada - father Indamin - my heart (used as a affectionate statement) Melamin - my love