TIMESTAMP: 8th of Sun’s Zenith year 118
NOTES: For Vitalis request; part 4 of 4.
NOTES: For Vitalis request; part 4 of 4.
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Delirious and utterly exhausted, Hector was on his side, head resting on one of Vergil’s legs as he lay across the other man’s lap. The two had been wordless for a while; Hector was too delirious to form coherent sentences and Vergil bit his tongue knowing there was no benefit to saying anything. They both knew how long this process could be, the vampyre having gone through it himself, yet that did little for them with how badly perception warped how seconds, minutes, hours and so forth felt. The initiate bounced between feeling moments as eternal to everything crashing by, flowing way too fast; such perceptions flung back and forth wildly, unpredictably, giving him constant mental whiplash. For the Vitalitasi, everything was drawn out, slow. Seconds, to him, were feeling more like minutes and had been this entire time.
Having left everything that needed to be disposed of within Hector’s gastrointestinal tract and his stomach, Vergil was perplexed as to why the boy was having so much trouble getting anything to come out beyond his initial expulsion despite having been struggling for several hours now. He didn’t understand. Had he done something wrong? Moved something where it should not have been when he’d moved everything earlier? Was there some sort of blockage? Questions like these continued to race through the vampyre’s head as he ran fingers through the younger man’s hair. Though he was not entirely sure how much sand was left in Hector’s hourglass, he felt a rising sense of panic the longer the two sat in this horrid limbo.
Vergil’s skills were respectable and in many ways impressive, but he was no master. Most of the masters, for that matter, weren’t willing to stick around and help after granting the rune either– a lot of them had the mindset that if an initiate couldn’t work through it on their own, they didn’t deserve it. His frustration at spells he couldn’t cast grew as time went on, knowing that were he simply better, he’d probably have Hector cleansed by now. This guilt was adding to his stress, thoughts looping in unproductive circles as he waited. But then, those loops broke when Hector spoke.
“Vergil…?” Hector’s voice was so very small.
“Yes?" A voice saturated with attentive concern answered back.
“If it looks like…I won’t make it…kill me, feed from me– take my memories and let me live on in the fragments in your head.” It wasn’t truly living, was it? But being remembered this way was something, wasn’t it?
“Don’t say things like that, Hector…” The question only made the burden of Vergil’s guilt heavier.
“Please? I just want your word.” His voice was frayed and unraveling; he really did sound pitiful.
“Fine. It’s…yours.” The vampyre’s reluctance to acknowledge the possibility of failure was palpable in how he spoke.
Silence blanketed the room once more.
It had probably been about ten minutes since the two had spoken when Vergil placed a hand against Hector’s back and gently rolled him forward, angling him so that it would be easier for him to face the floor should he need to. A few mumbled syllables left the boy's mouth as he was moved but nothing quite coherent. Not long after that, he coughed. As this action repeated a few times, he felt his mouth begin to water again; internally, the elf was dreading having yet another fruitless fit. The hand Vergil left on the side of the other's ribcage slid forward onto his chest to prevent him from falling forward onto the floor.
Hector felt dizzy and his world was spinning. He let the weight of his upper body lean into the support of his mentor's arm, relying on it for any semblance of stability. His personal reservoir of strength had long been drained; to Vergil, he felt limp, uncomfortably so. The elf's focus clung onto his ragged breathing, desperately trying to keep it from spiraling out of his control and everything overwhelming him yet again. He gagged, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for his muscles to seize yet again.
With his other palm flat on Hector’s back, the vampyre at this point had been trying to use Thaumaturgy to make use of his initiate’s blood and push the wilted entrails and viscera upwards– he wasn’t actually aware of how useful this had been over time, but at this point he was just throwing things at the wall to see what would stick. The elf had been growing sicker and weaker each time a fit like this happened; eventually, he would run out of energy and rot again.
Barely conscious and thoroughly overstimulated, the trembling elf heaved and this time, the gore held within finally came out. Despite this being exceptionally repulsive and deeply, thoroughly uncomfortable, it was a massive relief to both him and his mentor. Keeping what small part of his mind was still coherent focused on making sure he could continue to breathe, Hector continued to disgorge the rotting contents of his gastrointestinal tract. While some of his heaving became dry again towards the end, this time, he continued until everything was out of his system.
Wanting this all to end, Hector took one last deep breath before he felt something change, something finally clicked into place. As if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him, his entire body tensed, flinching, but then all of his pain and discomfort dissolved away at once– all that was left was the overwhelming exhaustion; a total lack of energy, yet somehow, he was still conscious. Finally, the boy had been fully reborn.
Hector slumped, limp, but finally able to relax in the arms of his initiator. Vergil blinked a few times in disbelief, then that same relief the other felt washed over him as he realized this tormenting process was finally over.
Smiling and shaking his head, “No room for wilting flowers, Hector, here…I forgot to bring anything else, so you’ll just have to settle for me.” Despite having grown tired himself, his voice was light hearted and soft.
Hector just barely was able to register that Vergil had spoken to him. “Mmmhh, what…? …You? What…for…?” His words were barely audible.
Vergil laughed. “Have you forgotten what you’ve become? You’re like me now, Hector– a vampyre. You need to feed and I…much as it embarrasses me to admit it, I came woefully ill prepared and didn’t bring you anything else. So…all we have is me. I can fend for myself…you, though? No-” He wasn’t actually able to finish this thought as he was interrupted by the unexpected shock of pain from being bitten.
While his breath caught in reaction, he didn’t do anything to stop the fledgling. He was merely following instructions, after all.
While Vergil was speaking, he’d dropped the arm that had been against the fledgling’s back such that his bare forearm fell in front of the other’s face. Running mostly on instinct with few thoughts going through his head at the moment, all Hector registered was that he had permission to bite his mentor. The taste of blood still had that signature metallic tang he’d come to recognize from when he was mortal, but now? There was so much more– the depth of the flavor was actually kind of overwhelming for somebody who had zero expectations and really just wanted sustenance. It was only after his first taste of blood that he realized how hungry he truly was.
The young vampyre was absolutely ravenous. After everything he’d just been through, the stark contrast of something this pleasurable, this satisfying, shut off the last of his ability to think consciously. There were no longer any thoughts running through his head; it was empty. Vergil could feel himself growing weaker but for the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to really care. He knew he was strong enough to find something to restore his own vitality and he wanted Hector to find some semblance of joy after what he’d just gone through.
Sands of time continued to fall and finally, Vergil gripped the back of Hector’s neck and pulled him away.
“Do you want me dead? Surely not…right?” The familiar wash of exhaustion from hunger flowed through him, but he still spoke in a light and joking tone.
Blinking, Hector regained control of his senses and realized he’d likely not have stopped on his own.
“I-...Oh, I couldn’t…think.” That’s all he managed to come up with as an explanation, but to be fair, it was entirely true.
In response, Vergil simply laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, I understand.”
Hector did feel fortified now, he no longer felt like he was on the brink of death, but he was still incredibly tired, weak– he needed rest. Expecting this, Vergil maneuvered to stand while holding his fledgling still in his arms; he didn’t react much aside from a small sound of surprise. With shaky legs, the older mage slowly began to make his way up the stairs and out of the cellar. Both of them had completely lost track of time by now and once they made it back to the main floor of the house, everything was quiet and dark. It must be the middle of the night. That didn’t mean nothing was stirring, though.
With languid steps, Vergil made his way towards where he knew the other set of stairs leading to the upper floor were, but this required going through the kitchen. As soon as he stepped through the threshold into the room, he immediately felt two sets of eyes snap onto him– Hector’s parents. Their boy was still, nearly asleep in his arms; from this distance, it would be anyone’s guess whether he was alive or dead. Both elves stared expectantly, waiting for the conscious vampyre to clarify, faces marred with obvious concern.
“He’s fine…just tired.” As soon as those words were spoken, the heavy tension in the room washed away.
Having left everything that needed to be disposed of within Hector’s gastrointestinal tract and his stomach, Vergil was perplexed as to why the boy was having so much trouble getting anything to come out beyond his initial expulsion despite having been struggling for several hours now. He didn’t understand. Had he done something wrong? Moved something where it should not have been when he’d moved everything earlier? Was there some sort of blockage? Questions like these continued to race through the vampyre’s head as he ran fingers through the younger man’s hair. Though he was not entirely sure how much sand was left in Hector’s hourglass, he felt a rising sense of panic the longer the two sat in this horrid limbo.
Vergil’s skills were respectable and in many ways impressive, but he was no master. Most of the masters, for that matter, weren’t willing to stick around and help after granting the rune either– a lot of them had the mindset that if an initiate couldn’t work through it on their own, they didn’t deserve it. His frustration at spells he couldn’t cast grew as time went on, knowing that were he simply better, he’d probably have Hector cleansed by now. This guilt was adding to his stress, thoughts looping in unproductive circles as he waited. But then, those loops broke when Hector spoke.
“Vergil…?” Hector’s voice was so very small.
“Yes?" A voice saturated with attentive concern answered back.
“If it looks like…I won’t make it…kill me, feed from me– take my memories and let me live on in the fragments in your head.” It wasn’t truly living, was it? But being remembered this way was something, wasn’t it?
“Don’t say things like that, Hector…” The question only made the burden of Vergil’s guilt heavier.
“Please? I just want your word.” His voice was frayed and unraveling; he really did sound pitiful.
“Fine. It’s…yours.” The vampyre’s reluctance to acknowledge the possibility of failure was palpable in how he spoke.
Silence blanketed the room once more.
It had probably been about ten minutes since the two had spoken when Vergil placed a hand against Hector’s back and gently rolled him forward, angling him so that it would be easier for him to face the floor should he need to. A few mumbled syllables left the boy's mouth as he was moved but nothing quite coherent. Not long after that, he coughed. As this action repeated a few times, he felt his mouth begin to water again; internally, the elf was dreading having yet another fruitless fit. The hand Vergil left on the side of the other's ribcage slid forward onto his chest to prevent him from falling forward onto the floor.
Hector felt dizzy and his world was spinning. He let the weight of his upper body lean into the support of his mentor's arm, relying on it for any semblance of stability. His personal reservoir of strength had long been drained; to Vergil, he felt limp, uncomfortably so. The elf's focus clung onto his ragged breathing, desperately trying to keep it from spiraling out of his control and everything overwhelming him yet again. He gagged, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for his muscles to seize yet again.
With his other palm flat on Hector’s back, the vampyre at this point had been trying to use Thaumaturgy to make use of his initiate’s blood and push the wilted entrails and viscera upwards– he wasn’t actually aware of how useful this had been over time, but at this point he was just throwing things at the wall to see what would stick. The elf had been growing sicker and weaker each time a fit like this happened; eventually, he would run out of energy and rot again.
Barely conscious and thoroughly overstimulated, the trembling elf heaved and this time, the gore held within finally came out. Despite this being exceptionally repulsive and deeply, thoroughly uncomfortable, it was a massive relief to both him and his mentor. Keeping what small part of his mind was still coherent focused on making sure he could continue to breathe, Hector continued to disgorge the rotting contents of his gastrointestinal tract. While some of his heaving became dry again towards the end, this time, he continued until everything was out of his system.
Wanting this all to end, Hector took one last deep breath before he felt something change, something finally clicked into place. As if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him, his entire body tensed, flinching, but then all of his pain and discomfort dissolved away at once– all that was left was the overwhelming exhaustion; a total lack of energy, yet somehow, he was still conscious. Finally, the boy had been fully reborn.
Hector slumped, limp, but finally able to relax in the arms of his initiator. Vergil blinked a few times in disbelief, then that same relief the other felt washed over him as he realized this tormenting process was finally over.
Smiling and shaking his head, “No room for wilting flowers, Hector, here…I forgot to bring anything else, so you’ll just have to settle for me.” Despite having grown tired himself, his voice was light hearted and soft.
Hector just barely was able to register that Vergil had spoken to him. “Mmmhh, what…? …You? What…for…?” His words were barely audible.
Vergil laughed. “Have you forgotten what you’ve become? You’re like me now, Hector– a vampyre. You need to feed and I…much as it embarrasses me to admit it, I came woefully ill prepared and didn’t bring you anything else. So…all we have is me. I can fend for myself…you, though? No-” He wasn’t actually able to finish this thought as he was interrupted by the unexpected shock of pain from being bitten.
While his breath caught in reaction, he didn’t do anything to stop the fledgling. He was merely following instructions, after all.
While Vergil was speaking, he’d dropped the arm that had been against the fledgling’s back such that his bare forearm fell in front of the other’s face. Running mostly on instinct with few thoughts going through his head at the moment, all Hector registered was that he had permission to bite his mentor. The taste of blood still had that signature metallic tang he’d come to recognize from when he was mortal, but now? There was so much more– the depth of the flavor was actually kind of overwhelming for somebody who had zero expectations and really just wanted sustenance. It was only after his first taste of blood that he realized how hungry he truly was.
The young vampyre was absolutely ravenous. After everything he’d just been through, the stark contrast of something this pleasurable, this satisfying, shut off the last of his ability to think consciously. There were no longer any thoughts running through his head; it was empty. Vergil could feel himself growing weaker but for the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to really care. He knew he was strong enough to find something to restore his own vitality and he wanted Hector to find some semblance of joy after what he’d just gone through.
Sands of time continued to fall and finally, Vergil gripped the back of Hector’s neck and pulled him away.
“Do you want me dead? Surely not…right?” The familiar wash of exhaustion from hunger flowed through him, but he still spoke in a light and joking tone.
Blinking, Hector regained control of his senses and realized he’d likely not have stopped on his own.
“I-...Oh, I couldn’t…think.” That’s all he managed to come up with as an explanation, but to be fair, it was entirely true.
In response, Vergil simply laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, I understand.”
Hector did feel fortified now, he no longer felt like he was on the brink of death, but he was still incredibly tired, weak– he needed rest. Expecting this, Vergil maneuvered to stand while holding his fledgling still in his arms; he didn’t react much aside from a small sound of surprise. With shaky legs, the older mage slowly began to make his way up the stairs and out of the cellar. Both of them had completely lost track of time by now and once they made it back to the main floor of the house, everything was quiet and dark. It must be the middle of the night. That didn’t mean nothing was stirring, though.
With languid steps, Vergil made his way towards where he knew the other set of stairs leading to the upper floor were, but this required going through the kitchen. As soon as he stepped through the threshold into the room, he immediately felt two sets of eyes snap onto him– Hector’s parents. Their boy was still, nearly asleep in his arms; from this distance, it would be anyone’s guess whether he was alive or dead. Both elves stared expectantly, waiting for the conscious vampyre to clarify, faces marred with obvious concern.
“He’s fine…just tired.” As soon as those words were spoken, the heavy tension in the room washed away.
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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Mythrasi Tongue/Speech"
'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Mythrasi Tongue/Speech"
