Heilen [Louvel]

[Alaric von der Marck]

The elder nodded. He was not expecting this conversation to be a hard one; he had not expected Louvel to argue with him, even though the younger descendant was welcome to. Alaric was open to discussion, especially if said discussion would enlighten him as to the situation surrounding the frayed edges of the family unit. Louvel’s agreement and his promise to try to strengthen the bonds was enough, however, and Alaric did not pry. And there was no more to say on the matter. Rather than dwell on what was already settled, the elder moved on. Or back, as it were. Back to the question Louvel had asked and which Alaric had not yet answered.

”There are many sacrifices for eternity,” he said. He shook his head. ”If I were given the choice, it is not something that I would have decided. But I do not think I would have chosen early death. For that I am thankful,” he said. He’d had many, many years to come to terms with his death, and the way it had come about. And sometimes he decided that he would have chosen this life – so long as he was given the proper education. He’d had a long time to change his mind several times over.

”It requires the death of the human body, the rebirth of the eternal. Food, drink, it is replaced by blood. The sun, it must be avoided,” he said, at which point he took note of Louvel’s bleach blonde hair, his sun-hardened skins. Alaric looked like a ghost in comparison. The last part Alaric assumed would hit Louvel the hardest.

”But you will become stronger, and capable of more than any human. You will live centuries, if you are careful,” he said, and licked his lips. There were things Alaric could have said about the benefits of eternity that English would not do justice – not in Alaric’s garbled version of it, anyway.

”Es ist erfreulich. Ich bin Zeit verkörpert. Ich bin ein Zeuge, am Rande des Lebens. Wenn die Zeit ein Fluss ist, der von einem Ort zum nächsten geht, bin ich am Ufer. Sie werden wissen, Louvel, wie schön ein Fluss ist, wie es wirbelt und wirbelt,“ he said. Now that he had come this far, death was not an option. Now that he had been brought back to life – the only thing that the elder wanted was to live. To live, and live and live. To keep living, until the world ended.

TRANSLATION: „It is gratifying. I am time epitomized. I am a witness, on the edge of life. If time is a river going from one place to the next, I am on the shore. You will know, Louvel, how beautiful a river is as it eddies and swirls.“

[Louvel von der Marck]

Louvel listened more so than Alaric may have been aware of. The reference to being stronger or more capable of the human he was certainly wasn’t a goal. Short or long term. It really was the last thing on his mind. Where many second guessed themselves or questioned their place in life because they were not happy with their current status, Louvel didn’t. He was happy with where he was at. Pretty much always had been as long as he could remember.

Of course he had some brief dark moments where the pain of unexpected loss sank him below his calm surface of life as he knew it. But it was never for long and it was never a chore to break through the surface and find his way back to his baseline of satisfaction with life in general. Perhaps some would jump at the chance of becoming invincible for some grander scheme at improving who they were. Not Louvel von der Marck. He thought being who and what he was at any given moment was as good as it could get. It was one of many of Mara’s gifts passed on during his childhood.

“Ich muss nicht Jahrhunderte leben, um die Schönheit des Lebens zu schätzen.” It was the truth. He wouldn’t know how to offer anything less. “Oder beraubt es vorzeitig, um seinen Wert zu kennen. Vielleicht sind wir zusammen in dem Wunsch, das Beste zu machen, was wir haben und das Verantwortungsbewusstsein, das um jeden Preis bewahrt werden muss.”

Louvel sat there and invested his attention on the one across from him. He didn’t have to die to know what was ahead or what could happen at any given moment and change the peaceful course of his life. It was right in front of him in physical proof. Heaven and Hell seated in one chair for anyone to see if they could handle the truth. A few still thought they had all the time in the world to accept it, a future to bargain with. He normally would too. That all changed with the summoning and the arrival of their patriarch. It was far more than an ouija board involved or childish curiosity. Family joined together and brought him back. His own blood spilled and a life ended to make it happen. Now he sat with the patience of a saint assuring those responsible he would not impose his unfinished plans. He would wait till they are ready. Pretty understanding for a guy who had to sit in the equivalent of hell for centuries and keep himself occupied until someone came up with a brilliant plan.

“With all due respect, Alaric, do not fear leaving the shore and flowing in the force of life as it carries you. It is yours to claim. Absorb the richness you were denied for centuries. It survived for a reason. As I said before… you are not alone. Not as you move forward. I will be there every step of the way. Whether it is beside you, behind you or a few steps ahead leading the way if need be. You didn’t ask to come back. You owe us nothing. Your tolerance with what you have returned to is far more generous than most would be. And I, for one, thank you for that.”

Translation:

* I do not have to live for centuries to appreciate the beauty of life.

** Or be deprived of it prematurely to know its value. Perhaps we are together in the desire to make the best of what we have and possess the sense of responsibility that it must be preserved at all costs.

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric heard Louvel, but was not sure that the other man truly understood. The comparison of river and shore to Alaric’s life perhaps could not be understood by those still tangled in the mortal coil. All that he offered was a slow blink when Louvel assured Alaric that he was not alone. And yet, the elder did not know how to explain that he felt alone, despite all assurances. There was a modicum of comfort in the family that surrounded him, and the elder had yet to figure out whether his existence on the edges was just something he had grown accustomed to, whether it was something he could help, or whether it was just where he would always reside regardless of how hard he tried.

All this time he had told himself that his reasons for offering immortality to his descendants were for logistical reasons. It was so the family would survive with a stronger base, stronger than just him alone. Eternal power, everlasting knowledge, a pure source of protection for a family that would continue to grow and to spread. They would provide the anchor to which they could all come home to.

But now, Alaric wondered if, deep down, his reasons were selfish. He’d lived for centuries before he’d died and he’d watched so many people pass into the next world. So many, and he hoped that their deaths were better than his. He hoped that they went somewhere better – that their mortal souls were sent someplace different. It was hard to watch those he’d grown to care for, die. Of old age or of disease, by accident or by murder. And yet here he was, still. Alive, outliving them all. In this, he was alone.

Louvel, assuring the elder that he did not need to die to see the beauty of the world – this Alaric knew, and had already understood about Louvel. He’d said so, hadn’t he? It was selfish to expect one who was so attached to the beauty of life to be plucked out of it – out of that flow of the unceasing river.

”I am well able to appreciate the beauty of life, Louvel, That is what I have said to you. It is a wondrous thing to behold. The river, it is time. It is life. My life does not adhere to time, it is outside of it. I am not alive. I am dead. It is not an easy thing to jump back into that river. It is an impossible thing. It is equally grieving to ask others to join me in the shore,” he said.

”I appreciate that you are by my side, Louvel. I do believe it, I do not deny it. One day you will grow old, however, and you will die. As will Leonie. As will Judah. As will Giselle, and Mirella. Birdee. All of the voices that fill these halls will be gone, and there will be others to replace them. It is how it has always been, how it always will be,” he said, palms spread calmly in front of him, even a faint smile on his lips. This was not a new revelation. And Alaric was calm, unhindered by the great sadness of it. He’d long ago realised what true acceptance could be.

[Louvel von der Marck]

Louvel could not deny that Alaric more than likely was right. Given the current state of all mentioned and their collective mortality in place it was a no brainer. Everything had a beginning and end as it stood. Except, of course, for the one who was reminding him he had more to learn than he currently had time to apply to it all. It wasn’t up for debate. His patriarch was winning without needing to defend his point as to why. If he was not all too aware of how recently the elder von der Marck had reappeared he would have been tempted to ask how many times over the centuries he had had this conversation with others in the family line.

“Yes.” The single word uttered in agreement had his body rising with the sound of his voice. “Unless we each make the choice to accept the offer that you are presenting.” His eyes held the one in the room with him. “If you are genuine in its terms then you may find some of us will be beside you a lot longer than those you shared your past with.”

Louvel walked away from the chair that held him and his mind worked as he traveled in slow, sure steps towards the library doorway. How many times had he cleared the door frame in the past? He was oblivious then to what he now knew. Mossy orbs framed by sun spun gold inspected the detailing in the hand carved that served as the support for the walls that had held them within the room.

“I decide my own fate. As do you and everyone else even if it is in the smallest uncooperative ways. Allow me to make my choice. Don’t assume you would know what it is or will be when the time comes.” He faced the open room and the one centered in it. “I cannot speak for the others but I will be here to hear you long after those who refuse your gift have been silenced by the effects of time. There are some you cannot replace if they refuse to be. I am the Keeper you have been looking for.”

Louvel stared at Alaric in the wake of his own voice going silent. The ticking of an unseen clock filled his ears as he stood there and waited. For what he wasn’t sure. The discussion had ended for him. He registered his points and made his intent known. What his patriarch chose to do with it was up to him. The elder could take him seriously or write it off as a well meaning honorable family member being typically human until things got real. Only then time would reveal even Alaric von der Marck with all his centuries of wisdom about human frailty and conditional, opprotunistic courage on the table would be surprised at what he had right in front of him. The invitation issued to Louvel, the Keeper, would be fully and eternally accepted without reservation. He nodded respectfully without a word to the lord of the manor and turned on his heels and took his leave.

[Alaric von der Marck]

The speech that Louvel made was impeccable. No truer words were spoken – to an extent. Although the elder did agree that everyone’s choices were their own and it was not his place to dictate what others would and would not do, in this matter, he was the one who held the fountain of youth in his blood. Unless they were to tie him down and take it by force, he was the one who would gift it, when he deemed them ready. He was the one who could say no.

The younger von der Marcks had youth on their side. They had lived but a fraction of the time that Alaric had, and they did not know firsthand what too much time could do to a person. The sacrifices, the loss – even the gain could become a curse.

But while he sat and stared at the open doorway that Louvel had left behind, Alaric wondered if he was not sabotaging himself, thinking of reasons why not. They were not ready, he’d claimed, and he had not changed his mind. There were things they would have to get into order before they accepted; they would have the privilege of foresight, of preparation. Their lives would not be ripped from under their feel like the metaphorical rug. They were not ready and yet, Louvel still claimed with vehement force that he would sit beside Alaric in immortality.

The young man’s confidence and surety did not offend Alaric. The subtle intonation that Alaric was in the wrong, that they could all do what they wanted regardless of his opinion – it should have rubbed the elder the wrong way, but he had lived far too long to be so sensitive. There were things that Judah had said, once, that had concerned him more, that had caused a shift in a heart and soul that had near solidified. Louvel, however, had shown only gratitude and his loyalty was unquestionable.

There was no reason to be offended, because what reason could there be for Alaric to say no, if Louvel were perfectly aware of the consequences but willing, regardless?

The elder shuffled the conversation to the back of his mind, to be further considered later. With Louvel gone, he returned to his reading, further immersing himself in the English language and modern scripts.