Valentine returned home after her ordeal in the Obsidian Halls, her eventual exorcism, and ultimate decision to allow Belle to turn her into a vampire to save her life.
She had discovered that the demon that had occupied her body, a Master, had seemingly left behind a power. The power to shape shift, or, at least she thought that's what it was.
Currently, she was sitting before her dressing table mirror, staring at the face of her Mother. She had but to think of someone, and her body blurred, shifting into that form. She did not know if it was merely illusion, or if her form truly changed. So, she experimented. What did she have to lose? She was doomed to live forever, just as miserable and crazy as she was before, if not worse. Or, at least, that is what Kalis seemed to imply. Was she crazy? Her father had always thought so...so did everyone else in Rhydin.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on a tree. She'd start with something simple. Opening her icy blue eyes, she stared at herself. So, she couldn't be just anything. Only people. Well, that could come in handy, couldn't it?
Turning from the mirror, she stood and walked to the stairs. Leather pants clinging to her form, they were a comfort to her. Something familiar.
Taking the black carpeted stairs two by two, her rather short form seemed to race up the stairs. She was still experimenting with her vampiric powers. She had discovered she could paint in half the time, but it tired her out severely.
Walking to a window, she looked out over the water, and then down to her private dock. She sighed, and figured she'd better write to Belle, asking her for help soon. She had totally bungled her first feed, nearly killing the woman who had offered to donate to her. She had stopped nearly too late.
Turning from one of the many windows in her studio, she padded barefoot to a small writing desk, took out a velevet and leather bound journal, and stared at the first blank page. It had been a gift from Khareth, but she had never been able to put thoughts to words, and words to page. She drew and painted her feelings. Maybe, just maybe the journal would help to sort out the confusion of memories haunting her. What was reality, what was illusion that Zaruk'Naroth had made her see, and what was the reality that he did while she was not in control?
She picked up a pen, and sat. Vampire. I am a vampire now. I have always been fascinated with them, but never wanted this. Now what do I do?
Setting down the pen, she leaned her head on her arms, and cried.
She had discovered that the demon that had occupied her body, a Master, had seemingly left behind a power. The power to shape shift, or, at least she thought that's what it was.
Currently, she was sitting before her dressing table mirror, staring at the face of her Mother. She had but to think of someone, and her body blurred, shifting into that form. She did not know if it was merely illusion, or if her form truly changed. So, she experimented. What did she have to lose? She was doomed to live forever, just as miserable and crazy as she was before, if not worse. Or, at least, that is what Kalis seemed to imply. Was she crazy? Her father had always thought so...so did everyone else in Rhydin.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on a tree. She'd start with something simple. Opening her icy blue eyes, she stared at herself. So, she couldn't be just anything. Only people. Well, that could come in handy, couldn't it?
Turning from the mirror, she stood and walked to the stairs. Leather pants clinging to her form, they were a comfort to her. Something familiar.
Taking the black carpeted stairs two by two, her rather short form seemed to race up the stairs. She was still experimenting with her vampiric powers. She had discovered she could paint in half the time, but it tired her out severely.
Walking to a window, she looked out over the water, and then down to her private dock. She sighed, and figured she'd better write to Belle, asking her for help soon. She had totally bungled her first feed, nearly killing the woman who had offered to donate to her. She had stopped nearly too late.
Turning from one of the many windows in her studio, she padded barefoot to a small writing desk, took out a velevet and leather bound journal, and stared at the first blank page. It had been a gift from Khareth, but she had never been able to put thoughts to words, and words to page. She drew and painted her feelings. Maybe, just maybe the journal would help to sort out the confusion of memories haunting her. What was reality, what was illusion that Zaruk'Naroth had made her see, and what was the reality that he did while she was not in control?
She picked up a pen, and sat. Vampire. I am a vampire now. I have always been fascinated with them, but never wanted this. Now what do I do?
Setting down the pen, she leaned her head on her arms, and cried.