Dark Journey and Beginings

[Ambrose Acheron]

He would have been a noble. His world would have been so much purer, so much more natural, pristine. The way the gods had created it and intended it to be.

Instead, this. This polluted, altered and paved over version of what the world should be. Desecrated temples and burial grounds gave rise to towns, cities, megalopolises. The world was being brutally murdered by the unknowing, uncaring Europeans, the Fade being torn apart by unknowing, uncaring vampires.

The Aztecs didn’t partake. Elders could, but drunkenness was seen as a crime. If an elderly, sick or dying man chose to partake it was a forgivable offense. If a young, able bodied person was to lose their senses in the drink, it was unforgivable. If Tizoc was not an Aztec, a stiff drink or ten would be on the agenda.

Looking to his childe, he still feels a hint of that resentment but stifles it immediately. She was of the Blood. She was of his Brood and so far she had been nothing but a childe even Eztli would have been content to have. She was attentive, questioning in a curious but not insulting way, and she spoke as he could understand easily. He’d known of some of the European elders who still preferred to dress to their own period in history, powerful enough that the hosted mortals and immortals alike while in their environment, behaved and dressed to the elder’s tastes. It was at one such event that Eztli had managed to, with the help of Tizoc and others, barricade three Spanish elders, three who had been with “the Fleets” that have brought so much suffering upon their people, into their hacienda and set the place ablaze with them inside. One had managed to escape, almost. Tizoc had placed an arrow through the knee of the fleeing Spaniard and Eztli had torn the other vampire apart.

Tizoc had been a good childe too.

Now she was again enquiring after more information, ever thirsty for knowledge, as far as Tizoc was concerned she was as absorbent as a sponge. “Paths… yes, they can and do open to us. With help. You must seek out the elder wraiths. Vampires who lived and died in far away lands but who have managed to… appear here.” Tizoc has his own theories about this, but doesn’t wish to flood his childe with more than she can handle. “Those of us who died nearby are returning, those of us who died elsewhere are not. All but for a few.”

“You are immortal, cursed by mortals and blessed by the gods. You have what they want and you will pay the cost for such in blood. You can… change some things about yourself though. Even your Path if legends hold true.”

[Noemi Michaux]

Noemi walked again in silence, she did not miss the flash of distaste in her Sire's eyes, quickly gone, but well used to at this point. She understood it. Might have even been hurt by it if she were made of different stuff. But she was Noemi, and there was nothing inside her but a greed for knowledge. A need to lead. Genetics more than likely played into that, she came from a long line of Aristos and had been taught well. Feelings were for those who followed. They were a hamper upon those who led.

That lesson was very true from what she had seen in her short time as a vampire. Feelings made you do things that hurt you more than the person you were trying to hurt. And she knew her Sire was grooming her, he had ideas and needs for his second generations that could never allow anything but stoicism.

Suited the darkness in her just fine.

"Dauphin, I met in my wanderings one named Hantu. A wraith. He ... taught me things... dark shadowed things... he calls me Fadewalker."

Stopping there, she continues her easy pace with Ambrose, her shade fluttering behind her, the outline of his fedora tragic against the streets. Something in him called to her... she knew him somehow... or had known someone tied to him. He glided still almost transparent alongside Ambrose, as if waiting for the ancient to spring.

it would have been amusing if she didn't have the feeling Ambrose knew he was there and could swallow him whole. She was not sure of such of course, but little escaped him in this realm or the ether. He had spent enough time there.

Daring came to her, and she reached into her pocket and pulled out an arrowhead she had found during her wanderings just outside of the city. It was old, she had looked at it under the scope and knew the blade had not been made by modern tools. It also had a certain... feel to it... like it belonged to the man beside her. She had bore a hole into it with a scalpel carefully for two nights until a strand of leather could be wound through it. Noemi looked at the black weapon tip and wondered how many it had killed.

And then handed it to the ultimate killer.

[Ambrose Acheron]

Reaching out he claims the item, examines it for a couple seconds and then pockets it before it can draw attention from any potential onlookers. He watches Noemi curiously for a further pause before giving her a small nod and leading the way down the street. What the arrowhead was doing in her possession Tizoc did not know but it likely meant something. He would consult the gods later that evening to discern if the portent was good or bad for him and his Brood. If if was indeed his then there would likely be a use for it again. Perhaps Coahoma was using it so show him the words she had spoken were the truth. What was will be again. Prophetic. Ambrose had always had the gift for omen reading since he could remember. He had of late been hearing whispered words from his dead wife though. This, a more physical sign, much like the owl and the cat, was strange. Both had involved his new childe. Perhaps the gods were trying to tell him something.

He runs her words through his head to gather what she said and translated it. Ah, Fadwalker.

"A bridge. One that separates those of the Shadow Path from those of the Necromancer Path. It deals with the Shadow Realm, the Fade is the barrier between the here and there." If he were human perhaps a chill would rise up his spine at the thought. Two centuries...

"Perhaps the day will come when your developing talents will truly be tested Noemi..."

The Disciples of Crow had survived with a lot of assistance from other vampires of the city. They would be working to destroy the Fade and if that happened... Fadewalkers may be the only one's who could reverse the damage or perhaps stop it from occurring. He had lost his chance.