Tomorrow's Shadow - 24. Collision With The Past

Stefano walked down the stairs admiring the fresh look of the recently painted grand hall. As he had wished, the walls were a sandy-white, very light in shade. Dressed in his usual tight trousers and fresh unlaced crimson peasant’s shirt, he descended slowly and brushed his fingers through the tangle of damp hair evidence of a recent swim. As he looked around the room, he noticed his bare feet were padding against dry steps that not long before were sloshing with salty water from his soaked clothes. Viktor is quick. Or someone is – to dry the stairs in so short a period and have them appear so polished. As he headed for the bar, Viktor looked up from in the Keep’s ledger.

“Ye look more comfortable being dry, my Lord.”

Stefano laughed. “While swimming wet never seems to bother, walking in wet clothing chafes tremendously. Not knowing if any of the staff remained awake it seemed the most reasonable choice.”

“I am pleased you did not take long to change; you have a guest out on the balcony.”

The Lord of the Keep arched a brow. “I assume it is someone you know otherwise they wouldn’t even be inside. And since you gave no name, I assume it is up to me to find out who it is. Pour me a house cognac and I will greet this mystery person.” After receiving his drink from the manservant, he walked across the room and out the balcony doors but stopped short when he saw the handsome man sitting near the rail, watching the sea. After a moment of shock he was able to find his voice. “It is good to see you; it has been a while now.”

Nikolos looked across then stood, walking to greet his friend. They hugged warmly, enchanted by the bond they still shared. Finally each stepped back and found chairs facing the water.

Stefano grinned slyly at his friend. “If you had arrived a bit earlier, you might have been privy to a rather breathtaking sight – or so I have been told.”

“In truth? What would that be, pray tell.”

“I just finished swimming. You may recall, I have never liked swimming clothed.”

Lust burned in the wolven’s eyes. “I have seen that wondrous sight. If memory serves, ‘breathtaking’ does not do it justice.” He took a sip of his brandy. “All things being as they are, it is mayhaps best that I was late. I doubt your mate would appreciate the affect such a vision would have on me.”

"Could be so… but it is good to see you again."

"And you. Though you may not care for my news."

"Now that you have my curiosity peaked, what news?"

"I am leaving. Across the mainland, almost to the southern-most coastline."

"Why? And why so far?"

"It is the season of change. I wish to experience my own alterations. It is said there is a mage there whom I wish to see, should she still be alive."

"A mage? My manservant is a mage."

"Trashinda has spells, potions, all meant for my kind. For wolven."

"Is something wrong? Are you ill or hurt?"

"No, beloved friend. It is said she has the power to remove one from always being under the moon."

"She can cure you from being wolven?"

"No, Stefano. There is no cure for being wolven. However, I am normally wolven at all times. As I have said before, keeping with this form, this mortal shell, takes extreme concentration. I cannot hold it long. When I was certain I would never see you again, I took the oath to always be wolven, always be 'under the moon'."

"Yes. If we knew in advance where Fates would have us walk, I believe many of our choices would be different."

"Very different, Stefano. So very different. But that is not the case; Fates are not that generous. Now, if rumors are true, Trashinda can remove me from being under the oath; she can make me a simple wolven, one who changes form only during the wolf-moon. A night before, a night after, but only those three nights."

"It would be good to know you were not always slave to your beast."

"Much like you are to yours, my friend. Except mine removes all sense of propriety. All self-control. That is the curse I want so much to have removed."

"And if it is removed? How will your life change?"

"I will be able to wed, Stefano. I will be able to raise children. Normal, mortal children. To love again as a person loves, and not as a beast mates – such is the only urge stronger than that of the beast itself. We cannot be one – I need to have a companion."

"Then I would ask the Fates to guard your steps, dear Nikolos. To protect you from that which might keep you from this quest. My heart goes with you, dearest friend. Mayhaps someday I might receive word that the curse has been removed, that you have the life you so desire, and so deserve."

Nikolos stood. "Thank you, Stefano. My Stefano." A single tear slipped down his cheek. "It seems the Fates decreed long ago to keep our love from becoming full. I shall never understand their purpose. If given the chance, I would demand an explanation."

"And I would stand at your side."

"Even now?"

"Even now."

The two friends embraced warmly. As they stood there, neither wishing to let go of the other, old feelings began to muster. Stefano tilted his head to kiss Nikolos' neck. The wolven moaned softly and turned to meet the kindred in gentle yet passionate kiss. Their passion grew faster and stronger than either had anticipated, but before they could act on their feelings, their privacy on the balcony was interrupted.

"Stefano, I'm ready to visit Father again, now that he has let me back…" Gerik froze in the doorway, his dark gaze seething at the two locked in their embrace. "If you were going to give your love to another, do you not think it would have been better to at least wait until your current lover is away?"

Stefano and Nikolos rapidly backed away from each other as an angry young Gerik stormed across the floor. He struck Nikolos square in the chest with the flat of his hand, knocking the wolven to the far rail, almost onto the stairs leading to the beach. "You. Leave my home now before I forget you are a friend of one here and end you myself."

Nikolos stood slowly, his back arching, hands extending. Gradually his form shifted into his natural state. His eyes burned with fire as he stared Gerik down. "That was not a wise move, little one. I can easily snap you in two."

"Both of you stop now before this goes further than can ever be mended." Stefano stepped between the two men.

Gerik spun to glare at his sire. "Of course, you would not want me to hurt your secret romance." He picked up a chair to throw but Stefano latched onto one of the legs, holding the chair solid. Gerik's eyes narrowed on the Lord of the Keep. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped and released the chair which then swung into Stefano's shins. "Fine. Do what you will. I am going to see my Father. At least on the mainland I still have family."

Gerik turned and walked into the main hall. By the time Stefano had set down the chair he still held and moved around it into the Keep, Gerik had stormed out the front doors, pushed the footman back against the wall, and used all his force to slam the door closed behind him. The collision of wood and stone reverberated through the room. Viktor had been watching from behind the bar and took this moment to duck into the kitchens.

Nikolos followed Stefano into the great hall, having forced himself back into his mortal being. "I have stayed too long already. I shall be going." He approached Stefano and kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, dearest one." He turned and walked out, leaving a speechless, confused, and frustrated kindred behind.

Stefano stood quietly in the great hall, staring at the door through moist eyes while his mind raced against itself. Do I grieve the argument with Gerik, or the leaving of Nikolos? Where does my heart stand? And with whom should be my allegiance? He turned and walked back out the balcony doors, across the floor, and down the steps toward the beach. He reached the sand and collapsed to his knees. The dam finally broke as his tears began to rain down his face.

Nikolos is gone. Dear Fates, don't let Gerik have left me as well.

Just before the sun, Stefano paced the floor before the fireplace. The fire that burned there was dim in comparison to the fury in the prince’s eyes. A specially-sent runner had returned an hour earlier with news that Gerik had gotten to The Row, but had left hours earlier. It is almost dawn. Where is he? In anger he threw his glass against the stone inside the fireplace. Enough cognac remained to cause the fire to flare. He was about to return to the bar for a fresh glass when the front door opened and his chylde stumbled inside.

Stefano turned to face the recalcitrant kindred. “Where, by the Fates, have you been? It is almost light!”

Gerik tilted his head and closed one eye, trying to focus on the one speaking. “Pffft. Much you care.” His words were heavily slurred. “I have been … out.”

The Lord of the Keep scowled, recognizing the effect of alcohol on the man’s system. He took two steps towards the younger kindred before he stopped cold. “By all that is dark, you smell like a distillery.”

Gerik giggled. “I shepose that ish what happens when you feed outside a tav.. a tavern.”

Stefano turned his back. “Go to bed. I will not deal with you in this condition.”

“Ah but Shtef, I am not inebriated that heavy. Come give me kiss and I will prove it.”

“Go to bed, Gerik, before I forget you are my chylde and speak only as your Prince.”

“No.”

Stefano spun to glare at Gerik. “Repeat that. I find it difficult to believe I heard it from you.”

“I said ‘no’. I want to ‘pologize to you.” Gerik almost tripped over his own feet trying to walk forward.

“Do not presume my patience, my chylde. Just. Go. Upstairs.”

“No.” Gerik stood with his hands on his hips, weaving slightly.

“Then the dawn take you.” Stefano turned on his heel and stepped into his office. The heavy door slid closed; the heavy bolt could be heard clicking into place.

Viktor stepped out of the kitchen and looked around the room, quickly summing the situation. He walked to Gerik’s side and placed one of the drunk kindred’s arms over his neck and shoulders as he wrapped an arm around the kindred’s side. “Come, Lord Gerik. Ye need to retire.”

“I want Shtefan…o”

“Sweet Fates. I said ‘come’.” The mage’s eyes glowed a soft blue.

Gerik found himself walking beside Viktor and ascending the stairs. His mind began to clear as the force of the spell over him took hold. “Viktor? I cannot go to the bed chambers. Stefano is in his office.”

“In which case ye need to leave him in peace. Walk.” Viktor managed to finally get Gerik to the door to the suite. He unlocked the door and swung it open, then unceremoniously shoved the kindred through. “Sleep, fool. And hope your sire calms before next eve.” He closed the door between them and walked back downstairs. He paused at the bottom considering before turning to walk to the panels of Stefano’s door. He gestured toward the door and the heavy oak shook under the force of an energy bolt. “Master Stefano, I have gotten Lord Gerik into your suite. I trust ye to resolve the issue on the morrow.”

The door thudded before sliding back and open. Stefano stood in his office, shadows swirling over his head. “Whether or not I ‘resolve the issue’ is my affair. You would do best to remember your station.” He turned his back on Viktor as his door slid closed and slipped back into its place.

Viktor paused only a moment before heading to the kitchens to prepare for the day.

As should ye, Lord Prince.