Vampire Rites: Initiation

Ylrios knew nothing, truly, and he wished he could go back to knowing nothing before this world dragged him into its depths, unable to see anything the same way.

Vampires. One had claimed him that night, but seemed enthralled solely on the hunt rather than the aftermath. At first, he thought that they at least decided to bring him here instead of leaving his cold body for someone to discover, but Calla chuckled, finding the consideration cutely naive. "They are merely upholding the laws they had sworn themselves on. You are not their first, though I am considering if you should be their last."

She had gestured for him to sit on the couch opposite of her, a low wooden table separating them. Perhaps she had deemed him cooperative or something of the sort. She was correct, as Ylrios followed her instructions despite the doubtful look in his eyes.

"Our numbers have been gradually increasing, but tihs also increases the chances of discord, and we can't have that." Calla continued, "We did not exactly put a specific limitation, but I feel that changes must be made. Your maker is not the only one we should keep on a leash…" she then lightly shook her head, noting that Ylrios' unease had not abated. "These matters do not concern you. More pressing matters are at hand, such as learning more about your current state of being. Someone will be assigned to you so that you have someone to direct your questions to."

Well, Ylrios was not surprised that she would be too busy to tend to him, but when the conversation ended and he was dismissed, he could no longer keep his fears at bay. What exactly did they do to him, and what did this mean for his future? Though in truth, he never thought about his future too heavily; he thought he would simply perform until maybe something changed.

Well, this was…certainly a change. He was dead, in fact. (It took him days to come to terms to this. He just couldn't wrap his head around that he died from that encounter and then came alive again. It even sounded more fanciful than the stories his caretakers used to tell him, though ghosts had been a subject of those tales sometimes…)

The wings and the fangs were also new additions he had to take note of, but thankfully they were not as troublesome as his lost of taste. Food was one of the pleasures he enjoyed while living, so for that to be taken from him seemed like the greatest crime. However, the trade off was how (dare he say) exquisite blood tasted. It scared him, frankly; it was a sensation beyond staving hunger, and it felt downright dangerous in the wrong hooves (not to say that he was not the correct one).

To say the least, the few weeks after becoming a vampire had basically flipped Ylrios' life (and death) upside down. With him being away from the troupe for an extended period of time, not to mention that was where he met his end, it felt…he didn't know if he could step in there again, pretend that nothing had changed. They probably tried to look for him, but he wouldn't know how much effort they would have done in doing so - it was not uncommon in the industry for a troupe member to leave suddenly. It was not how he wanted it to go, but fate seemed to have decided for him.

Fate, huh?

One evening, Ylrios was invited to a gathering of vampires, meant to initiate them formally into the court and explain the laws they need to follow. Many were present, all unfamiliar faces except for Calla, the lord who granted him shelter and taught him their ways. He wondered if he would be able to find his maker in the crowd, but none stood out to him, none smiled or gave a flicker of recognition.

He was not a performer on this stage tonight; he was merely part of the audience. How strange that he was looking upward instead of ahead. Would he ever be able to rejoin the spotlight, or were those destined to be memories forevermore?

Ylrios knew little of forging new ties, but he had no choice in the matter. When it was his turn to receive the chalice, he let his gaze linger a little too long before he received it. A sliver of blood from the lord, an act to seal his status as subservient. He bowed and gave thanks before rejoining the crowd, thinking on what was left for him now.

He couldn't stay here; Calla was not generous, she was practical. Even as they spoke, a bun could become newly turned and may need residence while they transitioned from death to undeath. One of the vampires in the gathering was surprisingly kind, they perhaps noted that he was one of the newly initiated and asked if he had any plans.

None, Ylrios replied. They gave a sympathetic smile and told him that was normal. If he still had a home to go back to, perhaps a decision would make itself apparent if he returned? It was a harmless suggestion, but weighed heavily in his chest. He had been gone for a few weeks now, and he wouldn't know what he would do if he ran into one of his troupe members along the way.

Perhaps he was more of a coward than he thought. The outskirts of Burrowgatory would have to do. He had enough saved for a hotel, and then he would have to find rent, and then…and then…

Pain burned inside him. Why did he have to throw his whole life away because he was unlucky? He was supposed to just accept this and move on? But fear was stronger, and what would anger do if he was able to find who was responsible?

Ylrios heaved a deep exhale, defeated, and yet not necessarily helpless. He looked at the bun and asked sincerely, "Do you know if the court has a theater troupe?"