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Chap. 5 - What About Yesterday
Published Aug 9, 2012


Written By

HumorMeh

Storyteller
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Okay, the polls are in. (Just kidding there weren't any polls, I mean I haven't been to Poland since...ever.)*

Click the right arrow button to receive the knowledge of who got the second ticket to Setra.
















*Yes, that was a bad joke. Please forgive me.

Okay, the polls are in. (Just kidding there weren't any polls, I mean I haven't been to Poland since...ever.)*

Click the right arrow button to receive the knowledge of who got the second ticket to Setra.
















*Yes, that was a bad joke. Please forgive me.
(Aliteration Rocks!)

“Woah, this place, this view is—”
“B-E-A-utiful, yeah, I came here once as a kid, looks the same but…shinny-er.”
“Hold up—have you always been a vampire?”
“Born and raised—”
But she was already back to her surroundings, “And the weather…”

“Come on. Let’s go, you and I—”
“Wait.” Said as though not meant for him.

He quirked an eyebrow, “You okay?”

“No, it’s just—weather. Weather. Something about the—” She sucked in a breath and a whole spectrum of emotions flashed across her face until she looked numb “—la madre de mi, ella mintió. She sad it was stormy, that there was a hurricane, or—My mother lied to me about the weather—why would she…” She drifted off.
Marisa had, once she learned of the two tickets, forced Oren to bring her along, and helped Brock to the realization that getting rid of the human smell from his rooms as soon as possible would be a lot more easily accomplished if there were, in fact, no humans. And everything including that long plane ride and their short taxi ride here, to the Oasis, had seemed almost pleasant. But, Oren didn’t see any sense in slowing down his plans just because a human was following him around like a lost puppy—better yet, if he kept up his usual pace the human might get lost, or left behind… “You coming!” During his brief musings she had slide into the elevator, still frowning about her minute-ago epiphany though.
“What was that about?” He kept his distance.

“Something to figure out later, I guess. So, where are we going?”

“The park.”

“Which one?”

“The one for dogs.” He replied laconically.


She seemed to read deeper into his words and he could almost see the realization of: ‘Werewolves’ flash behind her eyes and she muttered, “Makes a kind of odd sense.”

Oren didn’t respond.

But of course, they never got that far. A limo pulled up short before them, the window nudged downward indistinguishably and a voice ordered: “Get in.” In Oren’s experience when someone orders you to do something they usually have the power to make you do it against your will anyway but have the ‘decency’ to ask first.

So Oren, and inherently Marisa, did as the voice commanded.
And it didn’t take long for Oren to work out their destination: Set’s Underworld. “I caught word of your arrival—”

“Is nothing I do private?” But it was rhetorical.

“Not for the son of a queen, my dear.” She was smiling, “No.”
He cut to the chase, “What do you want from me?” She sat, “Actually, the question IS what do you want, son of Queen Evelyn?” Oren didn’t respond, Marisa picked up the conversation: “Something tells me you already know the answer to that.”
She didn’t even glance at the human, “Smart girl. But confirmation never hurts.”
“The doctor,” Oren spat, “The healer of Supernaturals, where is he?”

“First, I want something from you, then—”
Oren stood.

“Ah-ah-ah, Setra is a big place, it’ll take you weeks at least, and I have a feeling this is a time game.”
“Whatever this is it isn’t a game.” Marisa threw in.

Oren couldn’t have—well, he could’ve said it better himself.

“What do you want?” Marisa asked almost casually.
She didn’t take her eyes off Oren, “My brother, Nick, he has blood poisoning.” Oren tired not to display any emotions but—blood poisoning. It wasn’t pretty when it happened to humans and got a whole lot more ugly when it befell a vampyre. With vampyres it all started with one misplaced bite, but that’s an even uglier story. Symptoms include: lack of appetite, chills, skin loses glow, and throwing up ice shards that usually contained blood. It takes about eight days for the poisoning to kill and there was only one cure—flame fruit. It battled the chill and long story short, set everything right in the vampyre system. Upside: (non-existant). She must’ve been reading his mind, “It’s his third day—West of here there is the area of Al Simhara, there you will find the Pyramid of the Burning Sands. Deep within you will find a copious amount of flame fruit. Take as much as you can carry. Bring it back before the sunset of Nick’s eighth day and I will give you the information you want.”

But that wasn’t all.

“At the Amber Estates you will find two horses prepared, follow the sunset, and with a night’s hard riding you should get there before midday.”
Marisa looked scared and yet brazen as she asked, “When do we start?”

“Anything else?” Oren finally spoke. She smiled at him, “Do you play?” She gestured to a piano. She knew the answer to that question too so Oren didn’t bother responding. “I would be in your debt.” As if that wasn’t already obvious, Oren took the bench; And cast a glance at the small audience, and needing no encouragement his fingers fell on the keys… Oren had wandered into this room again. Again. And again, he came back here, like the instrument before him was calling him, luring his mind within reach to snatch it away from the present and the here and the now. It was why Oren had wandered, he needed to stop thinking. This feeling was kind of like an itch you couldn’t scratch. Only he had scratched it, and now he was—it was natural pure and simple, his fingers against the smooth, soft, cool, white keys, brushing against the deep abyss of the black that interlaced with the blank. There were deep, resonating echoes, that settled low. Never stopping. This was purely instinctive. And Oren didn’t ever want to… “Oren, stop!” It was a cry of pure desperation. Then all emotion drained from Marisa’s face. Zoe clapped politely, sadly, “What they say of you is true.”

Oren didn’t care to inquire.

“Now, go. And do not come back until you have the fruit.” She was crying. Again. Silently this time. Oren was almost used to it by now. “How did you do that?”
Oren didn’t know what she was talking about.

“When you played—” She explained “—It was like I could hear it, see it, feel it, I was choking on it—”

“What are you talking about?” He snapped.
“Sadness. Desolation. Misery. It was there in that place with us, and your playing—it…summoned them, it was like I was reliving my grandmother’s and my mother’s death…Oren, are you okay?”

He laughed humorlessly. Her grandmother and mother, her only living relatives, had just died within days of each other and she was asking HIM if he was okay. “Don’t worry about me, worry about yourself—I’m on a mission here and I don’t have time for some human that can’t keep up. Because if you get lost—you’re on your own.” He dug his heels, gently though firmly, into the sides of his horse, enticing it into a gallop. And didn’t look back. Uhhh! Oren! Why so cruel?!

It's almost as if everything else in this story is developing except Oren - and his inherent need to shut people up and out. But don't give up on him quite yet.

Things can only go up from here - or, no, they can go down, but, I mean: It's gonna be one bon-diggety roller-coaster ride!

Stay tuned for the Rise and Fall of the Stoic, Silent, and Secretive Son of (Queen) Evelyn.

And his attempt to deprive the Pyramid of the Burning Sands of it's Flame Fruit within four days.

Don't think I forgot the: Hope You Enjoyed!

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#1spladoumAug 10, 2012

Wow, interesting description of blood poisoning! Whatever's becoming of these two, I hope they're able to get the antidote. And not kill each other!

#2keishafellerAug 23, 2012

Gosh! I wonder why he just switched back to cruel mode! And LOL at Marisa's innocent look whenever they are among vampires!

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