For centuries the Great Houses kept things together but very few knew the true secrets that had lain dormant for so very long.
Remy had been one of the last true Lord that has been around to keep the secrets. He was cruel but he hid the truth from everyone.
Alaric smiled at his wife as they had been reading in the library. They were trying to find information on this change and what Etienne had told them was that there was more to this than meets the eyes. He knew that Severin was not the be all and end all for power.
“Darling I think I have found something.”. she pointed at a passage with a sketch of symbols.
He nodded “This makes my blood run cold. I don’t know what this paper is but I just am nervous and something isn’t right. Let’s bring it to Astucia.”
She nodded.
——
Astucia sat in her room that was physically and magically attuned to her power. She saw the paper that Brigitte and Alaric brought back. She bad been asked to use her touch reading to see what she could find.
She was alone as she didn’t want anyone to see what she went through with the touch reading. Alexandre knew as did Aurelie but it was hard for them to watch.
She reached out and touched the paper and was dragged into the vision.
She stared at a cavern with 7 Crypts all with symbols carved into the stone and stained red with blood. This was not something that she had seen before but the cavern filled her with dread. In the centre there was a huge statue. Each of the crypts fanned out and it made it look like a half sun.
She felt that this was The Seven. Each symbol meant something different. The seven each are amazing in their own right.
The Crimson Chalice which represents blood.
The Broken Crown which represents dominion.
The Black Blade which represents war.
The Closed Eye which represents memory.
The Black Sun which represents death.
The Seven Pointed Star which represents prophecy.
The Empty Throne which represents the first master.
She saw a path through the cellar that led to this area and saw Remy entering it and spilling blood on the seventh crypt which was the Empty Throne.
“You have done well, Remy. Keep the bloodlines from this place. Guard the Seventh Crypt. So long as you remain Warden, the Houses will never know what sleeps beneath them.”
Astucia pulled herself away from the vision. “The chosen one and a fat lot of good that did him when he was killed many centuries before.
She rushed to tell them and Brigitte, Alaric, Astucia, Aurelie and Alexandre all headed into the cellar.
They kept looking and Astucia touched a panel and felt that blood opened it but only the true master of the House could do it. She let them all know.
Brigitte walked forward and slit her palm open with a knife and let the blood seep out as she touched the key. Nothing happened, but she was the current master of the house.
Astucia screamed “No Brigitte don’t touch it again it’s a trap. It will destroy any pretenders to the throne.”.
Alaric stepped forward “My love, it may need the true blood Vauclaire to do this. Let me”. He took the knife and slit his own palm and touched the key.
“Brigitte is Master of the House,” Astucia whispered.
She stared at Alaric’s bleeding hand.
“But whoever built this place doesn’t care who sits upon the throne. It recognizes the bloodline.”
The floor trembled and began to sink into the cellar revealing a hidden passage that no one has known about. They stepped into it cautiously and lights began to glow in strips as they walked by.
Red most filled the exit from the tunnel and they saw what the visions had shown. The statue with the 7 Crypts all fanned out like a half sun with rays.
The crypts began to open by magic and the three on each side. The crypts were all empty. Finally the apex crypt opened revealing a body that looked pristine but had marks on her neck.
She looked peaceful and didn’t have the aura of death that a vampire would. Her eyes opened as they got closer to her. They were black with red outlines.
“The Warden is dead. The covenant is broken. The Masters have awakened. They are coming to choose another.”
She then crumpled away and turned to dust. They were all shocked as to what could do this? There was no vampire magic that could animate the dead.
Astucia reached out and felt the dust. No memory, no residue or anything at all. “There is nothing. This doesn’t make sense. Everyone leaves an imprint of memories.”
Alexandre replied “That is because she was nothing other than a Herald. She is there to warn and then disappear back to the other world. You can’t get a glimpse of a creation that has never had the memory.”
Etienne was dragged into the room in chains. He looked abused but he looked at his son and sire with contempt.
Alexandre looked at him “What is he doing here?”
“He is here because he has been telling lots of tales about this place. “
Etienne stopped at the entrance.
His eyes dropped to Alaric’s palm.
For perhaps the first time since they had known him, genuine terror crossed his face. “Who opened the Seventh Crypt?”
Nobody answered.
Etienne looked at Alaric.
“You fool.”
Alaric’s expression hardened. “I opened a door.”
“No,” Etienne whispered.
His gaze moved toward the Empty Throne.
“You answered a summons.”
Damon struck Etienne across the back of the head. “Careful, Etienne. Do I need to put you back on the Wrack and remind you what the stretch feels like?”
“You don’t understand what you’ve done. Those marks weren’t written to be read. They were written to be answered.”
Brigitte could ask, “Answered by whom?”
Etienne looks at her.
“The Seven.”
Damon glared. “Rumours of what the Seven were is all we have. They are said to have created the seven great houses. It is said that they controlled the great powers that we have been gifted. It has also been said that they can block the powers so that we would have no advantages over them.”
Astucia was listening but was feeling a growing unease, she felt that something was watching her that was infinitely more powerful than her. She felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Let’s discuss this outside this cursed place. Something feels wrong here and I don’t want to spend more time than necessary in this mausoleum.
They left but didn’t discuss further as all had said they would do their research. Astucia entered her suite of rooms and froze as there laying on her bed was a knife. She walked over and on it was a circle with a blood drop hidden beneath the break. This was odd and she reached and touched it.
——-
The Symbol of Memory
The moment Astucia’s fingertips touched the symbol, the room disappeared.
She gasped.
There was no transition.
No warning.
One moment she was sitting safely within her chamber.
The next she was standing barefoot in blood.
It covered the stone floor around her ankles, warm and impossibly dark. She tried to move, but her body refused to obey.
“This isn’t real,” she whispered.
A voice answered from somewhere behind her.
“Memory is always real.”
Astucia spun around.
Seven figures stood in a circle.
She couldn’t see their faces. Each wore a long black robe, and upon the chest of each was a different symbol.
Astucia recognized the one directly before her.
The same symbol she had touched.
Memory.
The figure raised its hand.
Everything changed.
Astucia screamed.
Hundreds of memories tore through her at once.
Wars.
Burning cities.
Vampires kneeling before creatures whose names had been deliberately erased from history.
She saw the Great Houses before they were great.
She saw their founders kneeling.
Not ruling.
Serving.
Then she saw Remy.
Astucia froze.
He was younger, but there was no mistaking him.
Remy stood inside a chamber illuminated by hundreds of candles. Before him rested seven pieces of parchment.
The symbols.
His hands trembled as he gathered them together.
“No one can know,” Remy whispered.
Someone stood behind him.
Astucia tried desperately to see the person’s face.
She couldn’t.
The memory resisted her.
Remy turned toward the mysterious figure.
“The Houses believe they rule themselves.”
“They must continue believing that.”
“And the Seven?”
A pause.
“Sleeping.”
Remy swallowed.
“For how long?”
The figure stepped closer.
“Until the Call.”
The vision shattered.
Astucia suddenly found herself chained to a stone chair.
She pulled against the restraints.
“Let me go!”
Someone walked around her.
Slowly.
Astucia couldn’t see them.
She could only hear footsteps.
Then a whisper came beside her ear.
“What the mind forgets, the blood remembers.”
Pain exploded through her skull.
Astucia screamed again.
Memories that weren’t hers flooded into her.
Etienne.
She saw him strapped to the Wrack.
Damon standing over him.
She felt Etienne’s terror.
His rage.
His helplessness.
But underneath all of it was something else.
Something Damon hadn’t understood.
Etienne had seen the symbol before.
The Symbol of Memory had been carved into the stone beneath the Wrack.
Damon hadn’t been merely torturing him.
Someone had been trying to make Etienne remember.
The vision changed again.
Seven doors appeared before Astucia.
Six remained closed.
The seventh slowly opened.
Darkness waited beyond it.
Something moved inside.
Astucia stepped backward.
“No.”
A voice came from beyond the doorway.
“The Call has been made.”
Astucia shook her head.
“I didn’t call anyone.”
A quiet laugh answered her.
“You touched Memory.”
The darkness moved closer.
“Memory touched you.”
Astucia suddenly understood.
Her touch-reading hadn’t allowed her to enter the symbol.
The symbol had entered her.
The voice whispered one final time.
“What the mind forgets, the blood remembers.”
A pair of ancient eyes opened inside the darkness.
“And now we remember you.”
Astucia was thrown backward.
Her chamber returned around her.
She hit the floor hard enough to crack the stone beneath her shoulder.
The parchment fluttered from her fingers.
For several seconds she couldn’t move.
Couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t even breathe.
Then Astucia looked toward the paper.
The Symbol of Memory was no longer black.
It was glowing crimson.
And somewhere far beyond the walls of House Vauclaire, something ancient had just answered the Call.
—-
She began to cry silently; this was not what she needed. For some reason this Memory person from the seven was courting her as she felt.
She knew with certainty that she couldn’t work for that creature. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t be used as a pawn in anyone’s game.
She heard a whisper “Memory will always be with you. Remember my name, little child.”.
The name she heard was Mnemosyne.
Her information was that this was a vampire who had first demonstrated a gift for being a seer or memory reading skills. This was a change from what she knew since she had always known the name as a Greek person. In fact she had met her once with Mireille Vauclaire who had helped train her more with the touch reading.
——-
Mireille stood at the foot of the bed where Astucia lay sleeping. She was not sleeping well and was tossing and turning throughout the night.
She had been brought in when Alexandre realized how strong of a gift she had. Even in sleep she didn’t seem to be away from the pain of others’ touch.
She quickly threw up a shield so that she would get the rest. Walking out of the room she looked at Alexandre. “What did you anticipate would happen when you embraced her?”
He shrugged “I had seen her touch reading and was hoping it would strengthen a bit so we could use it.”
“Alexandre, you should know with how strong she already was that it would overwhelm her mind. I will need to shield her until I can get her to learn more control. You shouldn’t have turned her without letting me know what she was.”
Mireille was not happy as she knew with all the strength that her former husband Remy would never have allowed her embrace. She was a prime target for Memory to be able to control. The Seven would definitely be looking now more at them. Brigitte now was running things and she wasn’t expecting much from her or well any of the other vampires of the house anymore.
She heard in her mind “What the mind forgets, the blood remembers.”. Knowing this meant that Memory would soon make an appearance.
They were dragged into the dreamscape. Alexandre was also there. “Alexandre, you didn’t strengthen her gift when you embraced her. You woke it. Thank you my dear servant “
Mireille’s face lost all colour.
For the first time Alexandre could remember, the ancient vampire looked genuinely afraid.
She lowered her head.
“Lady Mneme.”
Alexandre stared at her.
“You know her?”
Mireille didn’t answer.
Mneme smiled.
“Know me?”
Her silver hair drifted around her despite there being no wind within the dreamscape.
“Oh, Alexandre. Your family knew all of us once.”
Her black eyes settled upon him.
“Then Remy taught you to forget.”
Mireille stepped between Mneme and the sleeping Astucia.
“Leave her alone.”
Mneme’s smile disappeared.
“You presume much, Mireille Vauclaire.”
“She is under my protection.”
“No.”
The single word seemed to shake the dreamscape.
Mneme raised one pale finger toward Astucia.
“She has always been under mine.”
Alexandre stepped forward. “I made her what she is.”
Mneme laughed.
It was not cruel laughter.
That somehow made it worse.
“No, Alexandre. You didn’t strengthen her gift when you embraced her.”
She approached Astucia and gently touched her forehead.
“You woke it.”
Astucia’s eyes snapped open.
Mneme smiled down at her.
“Thank you, my dear servant.”
Alexandre froze.
“I am no servant of yours.”
Mneme finally looked at him.
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
Silence.
Astucia stared upward.
Mneme’s fingers remained against her forehead.
“What the mind forgets,” Mneme whispered, “the blood remembers.”
Mireille suddenly understood.
“No…”
Mneme looked toward her.
“Yes.”
Mireille’s shield shattered.
Astucia screamed.
Mneme caught her before she fell and whispered into her ear.
“Welcome back, little Memory.”
She looked at both of those others. “Now forget.”. She left Mireille only with her memory. Alexandre and Astucia would not remember.
—–
Astucia was shocked. What was this vision showing her? She had met this lady only once and this was not how she remembered it. Her memory was altered. She was upset now and she could feel her emotions getting out of control.
Oh how she wishes Mireille was here. She began to fade and again she was back to the Dreamscape.
—-
Mireille stared at Mneme.
“You were never supposed to find her.”
Mneme smiled.
“And yet you taught her.”
“I taught her to protect herself from you.”
“No, Mireille. You taught her to hear me.”
Astucia looked between them.
“What is she talking about?”
Mireille closed her eyes.
This was the conversation she had spent centuries hoping would never happen.
“After Alexandre embraced you, I stayed because your gift was destroying you. Every person you touched left something behind. Memories, emotions, pain. You couldn’t separate yourself from them.”
Astucia remembered.
The nightmares.
The screaming.
Waking with memories belonging to people she had never met.
“You taught me control.”
“I taught you how to build walls,” Mireille said.
Mneme laughed softly.
“And then she discovered that walls have doors.”
Mireille glared at her.
“Be silent.”
Mneme’s smile widened.
Astucia stepped closer to Mireille.
“Why did you leave?”
Mireille couldn’t look at her.
“Because she found me.”
The room became silent.
“Mneme?”
Mireille nodded.
“Every time I entered your mind to shield you, something looked back at me. At first I thought it was another memory. Then it began speaking.”
Astucia felt cold.
“What did it say?”
Mireille finally looked at her.
“It asked me to bring you to her.”
Mneme slowly walked around them.
“And you refused.”
“Yes.”
“Again and again.”
“Yes.”
Astucia shook her head. “You could have told me.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
Anger appeared in Astucia’s eyes.
“You abandoned me.”
“I saved you!”
The force of Mireille’s voice silenced her.
Mireille’s expression immediately softened.
“I discovered that Mneme wasn’t finding you through your gift. She was finding you through me. I had spent too many centuries studying Memory. I knew too much. I had touched too many things connected to the Seven.”
She looked toward Mneme.
“I had become a path.”
Mneme inclined her head.
“At last, something we agree upon.”
Mireille continued.
“So I disappeared. I severed every mental connection between us. I stopped using my gift. I even allowed some of my own memories of you to be sealed away.”
Astucia stared at her.
“You forgot me?”
Mireille’s eyes filled with tears.
“I made myself forget where you were.”
That struck Astucia harder than anger ever could.
“Why?”
“Because she can take memories, Astucia. She can walk through them. A secret you remember is a secret she can eventually discover.”
Mneme stepped beside Astucia.
Her voice became almost affectionate.
“What the mind forgets, the blood remembers.”
Mireille’s expression hardened.
“That was the problem.”
She looked directly at Astucia.
“I erased everything I could. Your location. Alexandre’s plans. The places where I trained you. Even the reason I loved you like my own student.”
Astucia swallowed.
“But it didn’t work.”
“No.”
Mireille looked toward Mneme.
“Because I misunderstood what she was.”
Mneme smiled.
Mireille whispered, “She doesn’t live inside memories.”
Mneme’s black eyes developed their thin crimson outline.
“Very good.”
Mireille took Astucia’s hand.
“She lives in the blood that creates them.”
Mneme moved closer.
“And blood…”
She gently touched Astucia’s cheek.
“…never forgets.”
Astucia knocked her hand away.
“I am not yours.”
For the first time, Mneme’s smile disappeared.
Mireille immediately moved between them.
“She never was.”
Mneme looked at Mireille for several seconds.
Then the smile returned.
“You still don’t understand.”
She pointed toward Alexandre.
“He embraced her.”
Then toward Mireille.
“You awakened her mind.”
Finally she pointed at Astucia.
“But neither of you created what she carries.”
Astucia’s stomach tightened.
Mneme leaned closer.
“I did.”
The dreamscape began to fracture.
Mireille grabbed Astucia.
“Listen to me. This is why I left you. Not because I stopped caring about you.”
Cracks spread through the darkness.
“I left because every memory I had of you was another road she could follow.”
Mneme’s voice echoed from everywhere.
“And now there is no need for roads.”
The world shattered.
Her final whisper followed Astucia into consciousness.
“I have found my little Memory.”
—–
Astucia now remembered what had happened. Her memory had been locked away from her and she had always felt Mireille had abandoned her to become the assassin that she was now.
Mireille who had been her mentor, trainer and in her earliest years almost a grandmotherly presence. Her anger at her leaving and no contact had now changed.
She needed to find out more information but that meant she needed to find Mireille and that meant leaving at the worst time. Could she leave to get the information and still be around to help out?.
Crazy Canadian Writing 