Welcome to Gaia! ::

Thomas sliced the man's throat. "I have all the information I need, thanks. You're still a civilian. Remember that. You could be put on trial for that, you know." He turned his back on her, grumpy that he didn't get any closer to the lord. He had a sudden thought. "What shops are open at this time that sell white thyme infused candles, animal blood, and salt?" He hoped she didn't know that this was used in offering yourself to a vampire. He needed to get close to him, and this was his best bet.

He unrolled a grid map from his bag and began marking off spaces with a stick of charcoal. It would be risky, and he may even lose his life, but he vowed right then and there he would not fail his people.

His shoulder throbbed. The vampire stood over him, grinning. "Well take care of you like we took care of your pathetic winged prince." Thomas remained calm. "I am not a guardian as our leaders are. I do not have the powers they posess." The vampire sneered. "Exactly. You realize now that you will die." Thomas laughed. "Nope." In a flash, he was on his feet behind the vampire. He kicked him down and sped toward the main camps, finally reaching the commander and his council at dawn. The sounds of retreat faded.

Thomas wasn't quite sure how to tell her the girl was dead. He had seen evidence of this in the mines, and he was pretty sure he knew exactly where to find her body. He shook his head sadly and ran after her. He waited outside her home. There were no Thralls. If any had attacked, they were long gone. She really was a naive girl... He considered taking her to the front lines as a nurse, just to show her real hardship and danger. Children were slaughtered every day. Human children that had wandered through the door, never to be seen again. He rubbed his eyes.

He was getting tired of this "I'm just as brave, I can handle it, I know everything" attitude. He couldn't be too mad at her - he knew she truely believed it. Trinity reminded him of himself before the war. He had been given to the military by his family when he was five and began his training as a runner. Upon finishing his training and education, he was much like her - strong, stubborn, thinking he knew more than others and certainly thinking he was much stronger than he was, thanks to many victorious battles. As soon as he went to war, everything changed...

The memory of his first battle threatened to surface. He leaned heavily against the wall, hoping he still had enough strength to fight it off. It had been nine years - almost ten - that he had not thought about it. He had burried it deep and supressed it. He wouldn't - couldn't - let himself remember...

He could no longer fight it. It was stronger than him now...

They stood, shoulder to shoulder. It was noon, but the mist hung heavy and the sky was dim. "Runners, forward!" They obeyed the command. Five of them went forward, losing sight of each other and the army behind them within seconds. Everything was eerie and quiet. Eventually, he came upon a small figure, hunched over with its head in its arms. It was crying. A little boy. He ran to the child's side. "How did you get here? Are you okay?" No reply. "Where are your parents?"

"Dead," came the miserable reply. "I understand you are scared, but we have to get you out of here," he closed the distance and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy's head snapped up. He grabbed Thomas's arm with surreal strength, breaking it in half and rendering it useless. Thomas cried out in a mixture of pain and surprise. That split second was all the boy needed to tear into him. He hacked and slashed with sharp nails until Thomas was completely drenched in his own blood. Even his blonde hair had taken on a wet scarlet color.

He felt pure hatred for himself as realization dawned on him - the boy was a weapon now, nothing more, and he would kill him unless Thomas took mercy on him and ripped him limb from limb...

And that's exactly what he did. Limb... from... limb...

Thomas sank to the ground, crying silent tears of hopelessness and pain. Trinity thought she knew true evil, yet she could not see that it was right next to her. She would never know true evil and true pain... He never hated himself more than in that very moment...

He forced himself to regain control. "What are you sorry for," he asked gruffly, quickly standing and walking away. He tried to hear what she was saying, but he could only hear the child's screams echoing around his head. He stopped and vomited in the lane over and over until not even water came up. A dreadful pain seized him and paralyzed him. He sank to his knees, looking up at the moon, tears streaming down his cheeks.

All around, the soldiers cheered. He was brave, valiant, he had served his king well. One by one, the sickness spewed from their mouths - the pride and compliments; they bounced off of him like rain on a waxy leaf. All he could hear were the screams. All he could see were the blood and tears... they boy, lying dead before him, his face twisted in fear and sorrow.

The Captain ordered an all night vigil outside his tent to "keep him from doing anything rediculous". He hated them, just as he hated himself. It was his right to take his life. His duty! He had killed a child and nothing could ever redeem his tainted, blackened soul. He didn't sleep for a week.

"Monster," he whispered simply to the moon, seeing in it the reflection of the many children he had been forced to kill in battle. The vampires were monsters for creating them. And as far as he was concerned, he was no better. "Monster," he said again.

Thomas's eyes rolled back into his head as a voice whispered in his ear. I've looked into your eyes and I've seen eveything you've done. Now open up your soul and let me in... I want it all. The good, the bad, the pain, the suffering. Bring it to me. Come to me...

Without realizing what he was doing, Thomas stood. His brain screamed at him to stay here with Trinity, but the voice pushed it away. That's it, Tom...

"My father... used to call me Tom." He struggled to remain coherent, struggled to remember. And he will again. Would you like to see him, Tom? Together we can find him.

"My mother..." He frowned, struggling to remember what it was he was going to say. Yes, your mother too. Everyone. Come to me, Tom. Let me be a part of you. Give me my life, so that I can give you yours...

Thomas's pupils widened and he lurched forward, ignoring all sense of self-preservation. Now was his time. He kept walking and when Trinity returned, he was nowhere to be found.

Thomas fell to the ground, breathing heavily as he snapped from his trance. He was angry. "I almost had him!" He growled in frustration, then calmed down. "The girl you are looking for is three miles north of here, burried. She's dead," he said calmly, handing her a small, hand stitched doll. "I'm sorry."

He slumped to the ground, disappointed and exhaused. He pulled an apple from his pack and bit into it, offering another to Trinity. "I hope it comes for me again," he said softly. "I... I need it." He attempted a smile. "That hurt you know," he said, touching his face. It felt hot. He finished his apple in silence, refusing to look at her.

"Well, not slapping me would have been one thing. I'm sorry about your father," he added, not knowing what else to say. He looked into the mines. "I knew where I was going," he told her, trying to keep her from dwelling on her pain, "I can easily get over that. You don't need to worry about others so much, you know." He smiled kindly and threw his core to the trees.

"The sun is coming up. I better get back to work," he said pointing to the mines. He hesitated, wrestling with himself. He finally gave in. "Have you ever thought about going to war? I know it's not easy living and it's dangerous... but, we could really use more hands. It doesn't even need to be combat," he added hastily. "The healers in the clinics are understaffed. You know... If you don't want to linger here," he said, choosing his words carefully.

"Just a thought."