A Perfect Sky Chapter 1

A Perfect Sky


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It was cold. Dark, cloud filled skies above drifted softly in the growing winds. Almost icy. Numb fingertips brushed gently against expensive fabric, grasping frantically for purchase. Too weak to form a tight grip, the hand fell heavily back to its previous resting place. Even the blood was growing colder.
Bright emerald eyes stared into those with paling life. Beautifully adorned ears listened to the spluttering coughs and chokes of one’s whose lungs are filling with increasingly viscous fluid. Soft warm lips pressed gently to a moist forehead and muttered a few incoherent words. The words echoed and rebounded from every surface, every particle; like a soft voice heard through a thin wall.
'Do you wish to live?'

The child awoke in a dark room, sweat beaded on his brow. His body felt empty, his hands still numb as though the cold had left it’s permanent touch. Touching his face, he tried to remember what had happened to him the night before - if it was still not that night. His small body felt different; though empty very heavy and his limbs refused to move as he willed.
'You are awake I see.' the voice was almost fragile as each syllable was spoken. Deep booming tones were comforting, like a father speaking to his son. The man whose voice it belonged to was sitting in the corner of the room, only his bright eyes and some jewellery reflecting the candlelight could be seen. The child did not move, only stared into the perpetual darkness of the corner.
'The wound was quite severe…I almost couldn’t revive you.' it continued. Shadows suddenly began to stir in the darkness and footsteps slowly made their way towards to large bed that the child was resting in. Swallowing, muscles tensed as the shadow finally became visible in the soft orange light; a man wearing expensive fabrics stopped as he reached the edge of the bed, kneeling down. He was young, almost feminine in face; long silver hair was tied up with an intricate lace ribbon, only allowing a few strands to fall alongside his face.
'My name is Causka.' the voice was rich, like it echoed from the pit of his very being. A long slender hand rose up and gently rested on the child’s head. Breathing softly, the young man smiled and closed his eyes.
'The fever has subsided. That is a very good sign.' Causka removed his hand and rubbed his fingers; almost with curiosity, before gently sighing and taking the child’s hand. 'What age are you young man?' the child froze as icy fingertips danced across the palm of his hand as they took grip. Slightly panicked eyes darted to those brilliant emerald orbs, calm and radiant as ever. His lip trembled as he attempted to speak - something was deeply unsettling about Causka’s eyes, his pale skin. And his touch.
'Fourteen sir.' he managed finally. Surprise fluttered into those resolute eyes for a few moments, then they returned to their aforementioned calmness.
'You are much older than your appearance.' he paused as if to gather his thoughts 'Though that is not necessarily a damaging revelation.' his tongue was so sleek - he appeared to be very well bred. Silks and precious gems adorned the young man as though an expensive trinket. The hand that had been loosely gripping the boy’s suddenly tightened.
'It will…soften the blow, if you will.' and with that, Causka rose from the floor and walked briskly out of the room, shutting the door fairly hard behind him.

The boy was left musing as the candle light flickered softly with the gust of wind produced from Causka’s hasty exit. He knew the young man, he’d met him before countless times. As far as he could recall, Causka owned a small antique shop on the corner of the street where he lived. If you could call it living. The shop however, was always quite empty; so full of stale light and stale air that no one would stay for very long. The boy liked the shop though, despite it’s flaws it was warm and inviting. Shelves and shelves of books called gently to him as he wandered around the crowded space, despite the fact he could not read - it constantly seemed like they were relocating as boxes full of books and antiques were strewn messily on the floor. Causka was always sitting somewhere dark with a small candle and a cup of tea, idly flicking through a large tome. It was always the same book, and he never appeared to be reading it; as though he would start reading and become distracted. There was talk of him - nasty rumours have a way of getting around quickly with the upper classes, and with loud voices they pass even quicker to the lower classes. Demon, they called him. Vicious Beast, some others said. Although to him, he always seemed just in need of company. Now, however, in this situation he was beginning to recall those rumours. Those with pale skin and green eyes are to be feared, they’d say. Green eyes were abnormal on this continent, where blue and grey eyes were more common. Paleness was associated with sickness, but he’d never known Causka to be ill, not once in all the years he had been visiting the shop. “That’s a permanent kind of sickness that one’s got.” he overheard a gossiping woman saying to her less than interested husband. Sitting up, he felt where a wound should have been, but found nothing, There wasn’t any wound, any blood. Any Pain. Anywhere. Swallowing harshly he looked around the room for a point of escape - there were none bar the door Causka exited. The sensation of being empty was beginning to unsettle him, it was not hunger. Almost a need. He jerked harshly as he felt Causka enter the room, the slow unending squeal of the old door curdled his blood. It was then he recognised a familiar scent - the stale air of the shop followed Causka into the room before he closed the door softly.
‘I apologise for my swift departure, but I had to assemble a few necessary arrangements.’ The boy frowned slightly, trying to process the complex sentence as Causka pulled the chair from the corner and laid a few unusual items on his lap. A pure white, unblemished cloth and a sharp knife with a polished stone handle. It was also beautifully adorned with engravings and jewels. Causka dragged his finger along the flat edge of the blade, as if to caress it.
‘May I ask what your name is?’ he said suddenly, taking his time to take off his smart jacket and unbutton his shirt cuff. The boy could feel his heart beating quickly in his chest as Causka rolled the sleeve to his elbow.
‘Eava sir…my name is Eava.’ he held his breath as Causka took the knife and gingerly sliced the tip of his forefinger.
‘Eava…’ he began, watching as the blood formed into a ball, before slowly trickling down the length of his finger ‘Do you recall what I asked you last night?’ he said in an absent manner, his gaze never leaving the blood. Eava was mesmerised by the sight before him, and the way he felt made him more inclined to sit and be still. Every muscle in his body screamed, every beat of his heart was a hammer blow that pulsed through every vein. His mouth was suddenly so dry. After a pause, he shook his head slowly. Causka smiled.
‘I asked you, if you wished to live.’ he uttered. Eava’s eyes widened as he recalled the events of the previous night.

Eava had been begging outside of a small cobblers when it happened. A wealthy upperclassmen had been walking towards him on the street when he heard the loud boom’s of gunfire. His eyes were closed tightly when he realised the shots were being fired from not too far away. Upon opening them, he discovered the wealthy man on the ground - there was blood all around him and he was being pillaged by a scruffy looking man who had fired the gun. At first all he could do was stand and stare - he had never seen anyone die before, it shocked and disgusted him. He felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. That’s when the gunman noticed him, and sure enough as he staggered to his feet he heard one last echoing boom and the sound of running footsteps. He felt numb at first, his body trembled and his heart thudded in his ears, but he felt nothing. Only when he looked down at his chest and saw the quickly widening pool of blood did he scream out in agony and collapse. He felt cold and numb. His vision was sparking, and his head felt as though it were dipping slowly in and out of water. Causka had approached slowly, kneeling down and turning him to face him very carefully so not to cause anymore pain. With a soft expression and a gentle kiss to the forehead, he asked that question. “Do you wish to live?” With every ounce of strength, Eava spluttered an agreement before slipping in and out of consciousness. A moment later he tasted something sweet. His mouth tasted of metal, so this was a stark contrast. Unable to open his eyes, he simply swallowed the warm liquid that was dripping into his mouth. Something within him cracked violently, as though someone had snapped his spine. What at first felt like his stomach churning soon became a wrenching pain that grew in intensity with every passing second. His body writhed as the pain engulfed his body, feeling as though his insides were bursting. Causka held him tightly as he shrieked, also trying to stifle his cries with his chest. He whispered softly, “This agony shall soon pass; and you shall never suffer again.” within a few minutes, the pain did indeed fade away, but he was too weak to stay conscious.

He then woke up in Causka’s dwelling, which he now assumed was apart of the shop. What did he do to me? What did he give me? Were the questions he was asking silently. He stared at the blood until he felt dizzy.
‘I ask you once more, Eava.’ Causka turned his attention away from the bleeding digit, which was now only ebbing slightly, to stare into Eava’s bright, curious eyes. ‘Do you wish to live?’ Without much thought, Eava nodded and leaned forward in the bed to look more closely at the bleeding finger. It had healed. I’ve already been saved haven’t I? He thought absently as Causka took the blade once more, this time priming it to cut into his wrist. Eava suddenly shot his hand out to grab the arm holding the knife. Causka stared at him with moderate curiosity as a bead of sweat curled down the boy’s slightly pink cheek.
‘But you’ll die!’ Eava protested as the older man attempted to shake free. An endearing smile formed on Causka’s lips and he muttered something softly, before turning back to Eava.
‘No…but you shall if you do not feed soon.’ Eava’s grip lost it’s strength and Causka proceeded to free himself.
‘….Why?’ The smile that had been resting on Causka’s thin, pale lips slipped away, as though it were never there, and those beautiful bright eyes suddenly seemed cold and dormant.
‘I shall kill you.’ the blade slowly and cleanly sliced through the seemingly thin flesh, without so much as a twitch from Causka. The intense pounding in Eava’s head occluded all else, and without thought, he took the wrist with both hands and clamped his mouth down on the wound. It tasted sweet, sweeter than anything else he had ever tasted. It tasted good. The emptiness he had been feeling was slowly fading away, as was the numbness and heavy limbs. When sense had been restored, he pulled away from Causka and touched his face; shaking as he saw the blood on his fingertips. Warm tears stung his eyes and left streaks on his face as they rolled slowly down each cheek. He had almost forgotten about Causka when he felt the soft cloth being rubbed on his face.
‘You will lose your humanity’ he said rather flatly, being sure to wipe away all the blood from his face and hands. Getting up from the chair, he sighed and looked at his wrist. ‘You drank a little too much…get some rest, sleep it off. I shall waken you later for some food.’ Eava did feel tired, as though just finishing a big meal. As his body grew limp for sleep and his eyes slowly closed, he watched as Causka left the room, closing the door very quietly. Did that just happen? He wondered as his eyes closed and he felt himself falling into a deep slumber. I didn’t know that blood could taste so….sweet.

He woke with Causka’s gentle calls. Everything seemed like a dream, a horrible nightmare that would end when he woke. However, those green eyes were resting on him calmly as he woke. This was no dream he would wake from.
‘Do you feel better?’ Causka’s deep voice seemed to shake his bones. Nodding as he sat up, he felt the urge to vomit as warm food was placed in front of him. It had been so long since he had last eaten, his stomach didn’t know how to cope with the smell of the rich food.
‘Try to eat.’
‘Didn’t I already?’ The young man seemed to consider this before smiling and taking a small piece of bread for himself.
‘In a way, I suppose.’ his eyes downcast, he appeared to be thinking ‘Not human, but still human….if you care to understand…’ Eava did not understand, although he did feel hunger, true hunger. Taking a piece of bread, he chewed it slowly before swallowing and grimacing as it hit his stomach. Causka uttered “Good boy” before turning and started to make his way out of the room.
‘Am I a…’ Eava’s mouth would not comply with the sentence he wanted to say, no words would come, they all seemed to dry up before he could say them. Causka turned to look over his shoulder, and gave what could only be described as a look of empathy before leaving the room. Am I a Monster? Am I a Demon? Am I a Vampire? Though these things could be thought as being the same thing. No words would come, not even in solitude. He ate would he could of his meal and clambered out of the large bed; feeling the need to investigate the small room. There were pictures on the wall - like the ones he would see out in the shop of beautiful ladies posing on marvellous chairs or heaped rugs. These ones looked much cleaner though, as though freshly painted. Apart from the décor there was little else to see - the room was not painted or papered, only the brick could be seen on the walls. The floors were wooden and creaked under even the lightest of steps. However - and this seemed odd to the boy, there was a full length mirror in the opposite corner of the room, where the small un-decorative chair used to sit. Vampires don’t see their reflections…it was a common myth. He tentatively made his way over to the mirror, expecting never to see himself coming towards it. He did though. Staring back at him, he recognised himself. Paler and thinner than he remembered, but it was indeed him. Am I not a vampire then? A Demon? He did not know as much of demons as he did of vampires - perhaps demons could see their reflection. His eyes were not green, his teeth were not pointed, he checked himself thoroughly. In the reflection he noticed a small covered up window, from it’s tone he assumed it must have been light outside. It was so grotty - as if never cleaned. Eava almost jumped out of his skin as the door opened behind him. His heart beat faster as he turned and noticed that this being was not Causka. This man was slightly shorter and much thinner. He wore a white shirt with a blue waistcoat - but unlike Causka, these did not look very expensive. Rather plain trousers that were a bit too long almost covered his shoes completely. Although he seemed rather normal, he wore many rings and a gaudy necklace around his neck. Running his fingers through his jet black hair, he loosened a few strands so that they fell on his unusually pale face. Very familiarly pale. Green eyes sparkled in the darkness, and a venomous smile crawled across the gaunt face.
‘You smell human.’ he said finally. His voice was fairly deep, but didn’t reach the same depths as Causka - this man seemed a great deal younger. It had a peculiar drawl to it; a slight drag in his speaking pattern, as though he were tired. As he advanced on Eava, he suddenly found himself screaming Causka’s name as he scrambled to the other side of the room in fright. The youth scoffed and dragged a hand down his face.
‘You act human too.’ there was a pause. ‘but you aren’t are you?’
It was then that Causka entered the room, at a steady pace and without concern of Eava. He looked plainly at the youth, who shrugged and walked over to the chair that had been sitting near the bed. With the youth at a safe distance, Eava bolted towards Causka and hid behind him. Causka seemed quite bemused at first, then gently patted the boy’s head until he had stopped shaking. The youth had since pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and began to smoke one, leaning with the cigarette in his mouth he lit it with the candle on the bedside table.
‘That is a disgusting habit.’ Causka said with conviction, his hand now resting softly on Eava’s head, messing the hair from time to time as a sign of reassurance. Again the youth merely shrugged, blowing out a plume of purple blue smoke as he held the long stick between his fingers.
‘S’not like I can die.’ he uttered with a slight smile of satisfaction.
‘It is the art I fear will die a death because of something you cannot let go of.’ Causka seemed to sigh, but Eava wasn’t sure. He did, however, feel the youth’s eyes on him and coward behind Causka out of sight.
‘Why is there a boy here? Was he sent to us?’ the youth asked languidly, leaning back in the chair. Causka shook his head firmly and encouraged Eava to stand in front of him, reassuring him with soft words.
‘This is Eava.’ Causka said in an announcing manner ‘I…librated him.’
This statement seemed to shock the other man, and he stood up.
‘Turned him did you? Well, well, well Dracula. Starting to play your part seriously now?’ Eava felt Causka’s fingers tighten on his shoulders.
‘I shall not play your childish games!’ he said with a raised voice ‘The boy would have died otherwise.’
‘So it was a “mercy turning”? Don’t make me laugh.’ he took a draw from the cigarette ‘He would have been better off dead. You know that.’ he remarked furtively, stalking past the two to head out of the room. Causka’s grip slackened and he seemed to relax. Eava looked up at him inquisitively and was greeted with a shallow smile.
‘That man…really makes me want to swear.’ he mumbled as his hand found his way to his face. Eava hadn’t noticed the gilded ring before, but now it’s garnet stone shone in the candle-light. Causka realised his interest and removed the ring, letting Eava hold it.
‘It was given to me when I was around your age…a gift from my father to remind me where I came from.’ warmth fluttered into his eyes as he recalled his family.
‘I never realised what he meant….until I was reborn.’ the soft smile grew slightly, though it lost its geniality. ‘I wear it as a reminder of where I came from…because I can never go back, or see those I loved again. That is what I believe he meant it for.’ the lost expression that had been resting on his face suddenly shattered, and his features took on the usual calm and cold expression Eava was used to.
‘Anyway…That man you saw earlier was Aronak - don’t worry he will not harm you. You still smell like a human so no doubt Bethina and Davroze will show their faces soon too.’ he paused for a moment ‘In a matter of speaking…’ Eava felt his body tremble, but he couldn’t stop it. “You smell human. You act human too….but you aren’t are you?” The phrase had bothered him when it was said, but now it seemed to shake him to the core.
‘What….what am I?’ he asked quietly, trying not to make eye contact with Causka, focusing his attention on the ring he still twisted in his fingers. Causka frowned at the tiny, child-like voice that emerged from the boy. Kneeling, he lifted Eava’s chin with his fingers and tried to smile. He still looked pained.
‘You are…one who has been reborn - seized back from the gnarly claws of death. But…’ his sight fell to the ground, as if ashamed ‘Death already had those claws around your soul. It becomes…torn when you try to snatch it back. This is why we have to change. The wounds never heal. We have to live off of others to survive.’ his head hung. ‘I apologise for…doing this to you. You did say…that you wished to live. It seemed…right at the time.’
‘Sounds to me like you should have just eaten him.’ Causka’s head snapped upright and turned to look behind him with a glare toward Aronak who had appeared silently with a glass of milk.
‘Thought I’d pissed off had you? What’s with that face? Ruin your little moment did I?’ he grinned and stared at Eava, who was staring back intensely.
‘And so the Vampire was born!’ he said dramatically, widening his arms. ‘Not the kind you hear rumours of mind - we’re far from the stuff in the children’s books.’
‘Why?’ Eava asked bravely as Causka rose to his feet and patted down his trousers. Aronak smirked and took a swig of the milk.
‘Well for a start all that bull about being connected to religion!’ he laughed ‘Far from it. Our souls aren’t damned, just damaged. We can waltz into a church if we want to, and no silly prays are going to stop us sucking the life force out of the priest.’ he seemed to enjoy the thought and smiled appropriately.
‘We are not vampires, we are “Reborn”. Though we are mistaken for them often enough.’ commented Causka, who had been fairly silent since Aronak entered the room.
‘When we were reborn, our bodies changed inside. You remember the pain right? Well apparently, if we drink enough blood, the wounds that remain on our souls would heal and we would become human again.’ he took another drink ‘Or so the story goes. I’ve been quaffing blood for over four hundred years and I don’t feel any different.’
‘If we abstain from blood before the wounds heal, they become infected…and we turn into a walking disease.’
‘Very hard to kill, tricky bastards those ones.’ remarked Aronak who had since wandered over to the bed and was lounging on it. ‘We really are damned when that happens.’ Eava tried to understand what they were saying desperately, his mind was spinning and all the while that nagging emptiness was scratching at his insides.
‘What about light? You can’t go out into the light?’ he asked frantically, more directed at Causka than Aronak. He seemed to think about, then shook his head.
‘Not full blown light.’
‘We wouldn’t explode or anything, but if the blood we drink get’s too warm it can curdle.’ he yawned ‘Just makes us puke really - and have to go out to feed during the day…which is a pain in the neck.’ Causka had been watching Eava contently and ushered him over to the bed where Aronak was lying. He pulled the knife and a fresh cloth from a drawer next to the bed. Aronak was mildly interested as the boy clamped his mouth on the wound once more, intently drinking the sweet blood. He flashed a look at Causka, who simply ignored it.
‘You can’t suckle him forever.’ he said defiantly, flashing a grin as Causka’s expression contorted ‘Mama’s milk’s gunna run out fast…then he’ll have to go onto solids.’ he flashed two pointed canines ‘Think you can handle him then?’ Without time to reply, Aronak left the room in a flurry - the flickering candle the only evidence he was ever there. Eava removed his mouth from Causka’s wrist and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand absently.
‘I don’t have any control over it…’ he uttered softly, staring in disbelief at the healing wound. Causka placed the cloth over the wound and gently wiped some blood from his cheek with his thumb.
‘Don’t worry…you will learn.’ Eava licked the back of his hand slowly and mused over everything that had been said.
‘Aronak…said over four hundred years…is that a really long time?’ he asked softly, Causka nodded and led the boy to the back of the bed to get in it.
‘So…if he’s really so old, why does he look so young?’ Causka smiled at the childish remarks - normally when a new Reborn is sent to him, they have already had these things explained to them in depth.
‘Something to do with the reconstruction of our bodies I expect.’ he said dismissively, pulling the sheets over Eava and turning to leave the room.
‘Everything will become clear in time…I promise you.’ and with that, he left the room and shut the door behind him. Eava was sure he heard the turning of a key in the lock, but was too tired to think about it. Thinking of the Reborn, he shut his eyes, and tried desperately not to image what death clawing at his soul looked like.